


Beginning Anew

by dtill359, Moonybird



Series: Trollhunters after the show ended [1]
Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters (Cartoon), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 23:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 43
Words: 93,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17949275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dtill359/pseuds/dtill359, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonybird/pseuds/Moonybird
Summary: Takes place after season 3. Barbara and Walter are left back in Arcadia, they each have a lot of things to figure out. And to move forward they need to work together while they find out how they want to move forward with their life and each other if at all. It is not easy when so many loose ends has left behind, and one is now permanently stuck as a troll.





	1. Chapter 1

Barbara swallowed as she looked in the direction her son disappeared. All the trolls in Arcadia Oaks were gone. They had a long and tough journey ahead of them. For now, they would have to travel through the forest where they would be protected by shadows as the sun set.

Jim… He had been in so much pain because of the sunlight…. He would be fine though.

Barbara swallowed hard again as she squeezed her eyes closed, a sob escaping her lips as a tear fell down her cheek. She felt a hand come to rest on her shoulder – a heavy hand, rough. Barbara turned to see the green troll's yellow eyes looking at her with concern.

"He's going to be fine," Walter assured. "You raised him well, he's such a strong young man. Stronger than I ever gave him credit for."

Barbara nodded. "I know."

Walter let her go to hold the magical stone he had in his arms, the cradle stone. "Barbara… you look exhausted, you should go home and get some rest."

Barbara nodded drowsily and fought off a yawn. "Yes... I know."

"I… would escort you home. I'm afraid I can't though," Walter commented as he held the cradle stone filled with the infants who were once changeling familiars.

"Huh?" Barbara asked. "Why?"

Walter looked pointedly towards the horizon. "I can't leave the shade. At least not until the sun is down."

"Can't you just… change?" Barbara asked. "That never seemed like an issue before."

"Not anymore," Walter informed as he looked down at the stone in his arms. "My familiar has been freed from the Darklands; the bond is broken. I am once again fully troll… I cannot turn back into a human."

Barbara's eyes widened as she looked at him, but Walter didn't meet her gaze. She realized he was like Jim now, unable to turn…

Barbara looked down. "There must be some route to my house that is mostly in shadow," she thought aloud.

"In the suburban area you live in?" Strickler asked and he chuckled. "Sorry to disappoint, but I don't think that's a risk worth taking." He looked toward the sinking sun. "It'll probably be half an hour before it's safe for me," he admitted. "And then... well… Trolls are not supposed to be seen."

"Then let's find something to cover you with!" Barbara announced triumphantly. "There must be something somewhere – you know, a blanket or an umbrella!"

Walter looked at her skeptically. "Why are you so insistent on this?" he finally asked. "All the Gum-gums have been defeated, neither you nor Jim especially need my protection anymore."

"That's not it!" Barbara exclaimed. "I just… I…" she choked. "I really don't want to be alone right now," she admitted.

Walter stared at her in surprise.

Barbara looked away. "Jim won't be coming home… The house is going to be so quiet. I – I'm not sure I can deal with that right now."

"Ah… I see." Walter blinked. "I mean… Are you sure that – that I'm the one you want to ask to keep you company?"

"Who else is there?" Barbara asked.

"Oh." Walter was taken aback. "Well… I suppose we'll have to find some cover then," he commented as he looked around. "I'm sorry I can't actually leave the forest myself to help you look for a suitable covering."

Barbara's eyes brightened just a little. "Wait right here; I'll go find something."

"Thank you," said Walter.

Before she left to look for the needed objects, Barbara smiled lightly at him, a soft, defeated kind of smile.

Walter stood alone with the big cradle stone in his arms and he looked down at it. All the babies' faces laughed back at him happily.

"Why on earth was I left with this thing?" he muttered, annoyed. Seriously – how was he supposed to take care of one tiny human child, let alone thousands of them? Some of his species were known to eat babies, and here he was, expected to watch over them.

Walter squinted at the stone as he held it up in front of him. "All of you had better not come out at once," he hissed.

Hopefully the infants wouldn't need any sustenance while within the cradle stone. In the Darklands the babies were under a spell that prevented them from aging, and they were fed and taken care of by a host of goblins. Now that the changeling bonds were broken, the spells should be too, but with the children in the cradle stone there were many questions he needed answers to.

He snorted, indignant. This was his punishment wasn't it? Jim had saddled him with this trial – having to handle all these children was the punishment for his treachery, disloyalty, cursing of Barbara and of course…. trying to kill Jim and all his friends… Well, in that light this was rather fair. In fact, it might even be an absurdly light punishment.

"Walt!" Barbara's voice sounded in his ears, and Walter looked up. "I found a blanket and an umbrella!" she beamed, holding up her finds victoriously. "Okay, hold still. I'm just going to wrap this around you," Barbara said as she took the blanket and roped it around Walter's shoulders as well as she could. "Now I just need – hmm…" Barbara frowned, then pulled the band out of her red hair, letting it fall down around her shoulders. She used the elastic to secure the blanket, so it wouldn't fall off. "And of course..." Barbara popped open the umbrella and held it over Walter's head.

Walter looked up at the umbrella and started to reach for the handle, but the cradle stone's size required both arms to hold it securely while they walked. He couldn't take the umbrella without risking dropping the stone. He sighed. "This is going to be a long walk."

"I'll make sure to keep the sun off of you," Barbara assured.

"I sincerely hope so. Jim is just a troll hybrid, part troll but still part human. Touching the sun hurts him severely but it doesn't kill him. It will, however, kill me. Instantly," Walter reminded her.

"I've got this," Barbara assured, now holding the umbrella firmly with both hands. "Let's get out of here."

It was an awkward walk. The city was in shambles; people everywhere wandered around, confused. Some witnessed the magical events of a few hours ago. Others had only heard of what happened, and they were busy telling those who'd seen it that they were mad.

Walter kept his head low. He tried to drape the blanket over his head, but he wasn't entirely successful, and several people gaped at him as Barbara quickly ushered them further in the right direction. Half way home the sun was low enough that Barbara could remove the umbrella. Walt finally succeeded in arching the blanked into a hood, shrouding his face in darkness.

After what seemed like forever, they reached Barbara's house and stepped inside. Walter sighed in deep relief as he let the blanket fall away from his face. "Well, that went against all the instincts I've been nurturing for over a millennium," he commented.

"Well, I'm sure with all the weird things that happened here over the past day, you walking through the street won't even get a mention," Barbara assured him.

"Oi, I'm getting a headache just thinking about it." Walter hefted the cradle stone into the crook of one arm and held a hand to his forehead. "It's the first rule for trolls – never let yourself be seen by a human – ever. As for changelings, do not ever let a human see your true form," he said. "It's the rule we live by… I guess that's lived by now," he lamented. "I imagine this will all be dismissed as a conspiracy eventually," Walter mused. "Humans can be rather small minded about certain things." He went into the living room and carefully set the cradle stone on the table. He straightened his back, letting some of the tension of earlier seep out of him.

Barbara yawned deeply as she passed him.

"You should go to bed," Walter said. "I won't be going anywhere. In fact," he pointed out the window with his thumb over his shoulder as small knots of people still milled around outside. "I can't."

"This is how Jim lives now too…" Barbara whispered.

Walter nodded. "Yes."

Barbara sighed as she walked over to the couch and plopped down onto the cushions, groaning as she leaned her head back.

Walter hesitated then stepped over to the couch. He waited for Barbara's invitation to sit, but when it didn't come he sat down next to her anyway. The next moment he gasped in surprise as Barbara leaned against him, resting her head on his chest.

Walter closed his eyes, shutting out the temptation to take advantage of the situation. Barbara was vulnerable right now. He carefully put a hand on Barbara's shoulder in a comforting gesture, letting her know she could take some time to rest. Just as he touched her, the telephone vibrated, and Barbara jolted awake, whipping out her cell.

"It's from Jim!" Barbara read the message aloud for Walter, "Made it to the south border of the forest. We are going to rest for an hour before moving on. Blinky is being a real hen and demands that I sleep, angry face." Barbara smiled amused as she read the text. "Claire says 'Hi' too. She also demands that I sleep, heart, heart, heart. I'll write again when the sun is down and we move out. Love you, Mom heart." Barbara halted. "I only got one heart; Claire got three!"

"Young people," Walter smirked, then commented thoughtfully, "Maybe cellphones weren't such a bad invention after all."

Barbara fought off another yawn as she texted back, "I'm going to demand you sleep too, so that's three people, heart. Take care of yourself! Love you." She put down the phone then sighed deeply, resting against Walter again.

Barbara pulled her feet up onto the couch and stretched out, her head still pillowed against Walter.

He raised a curious eyebrow at her. "Comfortable?" he asked, unsure of how on earth she could be.

"Hmm, it's funny," Barbara replied. "Your body… It's so hard; it really is stone." She pressed her cheek against him. "But it's warm. Like… it's heated up from the inside."

"That's not so odd. Human bodies are warm too," Walter pointed out. "Well… living ones," he quipped. "The same holds true for trolls. Once they die they become ordinary, cold stone."

"Yes, but…." Barbara hesitated. "Since you're stone, how can you move around? Do you have joints?" she asked.

"I suppose a doctor would be curious," Walter admitted. "Well, I can tell you… but it will be rather complicated and take a long time. If you still want to know after you've slept, I'll tell you."

Barbara bit her lip. "Walter…"

"Yes, Barbara?" Walter asked.

"Are you going to leave?"

The question made Walter freeze and any words he was going to offer died before he could say them.

"My husband… he left, without a word," Barbara said. "My parents left when I was just a child… and now Jim's gone too. You're going to leave me too… aren't you?" she asked. "Like everyone else…"

Walter let out a slow breath. "No," he stated. "I promised Jim I would look after you, and that's what I'm going to do," he assured her. "Even if I'm just a guardian against renegade goblins and vengeful trolls, I will be right here – with you."

"How do I know you're not lying?" Barbara asked. "You've lied so many times before."

"If I were going to leave I would have done so with the other trolls. It would have been my best shot at survival in my current form after all," Walter pointed out. "But I stayed. That was my choice – staying with you."

Barbara nodded, her eyes sinking closed. "You'd better… not be… gone when…. I wake…. up," she muttered, falling asleep almost before she uttered the last word.

Walter sat perfectly still on the couch as Barbara slept. He didn't move a single muscle… Well, he didn't actually have muscles in his troll form.

Walter sighed softly.

Well, that was one good thing about being a troll. At least they really could sit completely still for a very long time.

Barbara's quiet breathing washed over the room as the hours ticked by.


	2. What lurks under the bed

Barbara slowly came to. Her muscles ached, like she'd been sleeping on a rock. What had she been thinking, sleeping on something so hard?

"Barbara?" A gruff voice infused with that elegant British accent asked. It was a strange mix for sure… such a rough voice speaking in such academic tones.

Barbara cracked opened her eyes and started piecing things together. She had fallen asleep laying up against Walter. She looked up to see his green, stony face looking down at her with those shiny, yellow eyes.

Troll eyes were so strange. Barbara couldn't even compare them to a cat's. While feline eyes merely reflected light, troll eyes shone all on their own.

"Barbara?" Walter said again. "Are you alright?"

Barbara groaned again, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"No, that's fine. You clearly needed it," Walter assured.

Barbara frowned, confused. They were still in the same position as when she'd fallen asleep. She couldn't have been out for more than a minute… right?

"You've been sleeping for four hours," Walter supplied.

"What?" Barbara blinked. "But… wait? Are you saying that… You haven't moved… for four hours?" she asked.

"You said I had better not be gone when you woke up," Walter pointed out.

"That's… not really what I meant," Barbara commented as she sat up, rubbing her eyes and adjusting her glasses.

"Well, I am glad you finally woke up. The sun has been down for some time and, well… I need to go out and do a few things," Walter admitted.

"Like what?" Barbara asked.

"Well, first I thought I would try to find some information on the cradle stone," Walter said. "Find out how safe the children are in there, if they are aging, and how we can free them – hopefully just one at a time. Both the Janus Order and Trollmarket have many books on magical artifacts like the cradle stone, so I hope to find something there.

"Next, I need to find out what to do with the Janus Order headquarters. It's finally safe to go back, and… there are… remains down there. Dead changelings…" Walter's face fell. "At the very least they need a proper burial," he said. "As for all the artifacts stored in that place, I am considering moving them elsewhere. Trollmarket is probably safer now, and it's empty.

"Then I need to dismantle all the technology still residing in the Order ruins. I must shut it down permanently, so no one can stumble onto it and make use of it." Walter let out a deep sigh.

"You're not going to try to do all of that in one night are you?" Barbara asked.

Walter snorted. "Don't be ridiculous." He shifted out from under Barbara and stood up. "But I really should go as quickly as possible."

"I'll come with you," Barbara got up too.

Walter glanced back at her. "I think you're needed more elsewhere."

"Oh yeah, and where is that?" Barbara challenged.

With two clawed fingers Walter carefully picked up Barbara's cellphone from the table and showed it to her. The screen glowed with multiple unanswered call notifications from the hospital.

"Oh," Barbara mumbled, guilt tugging at her.

"There are still many injured from today's events," Walter pointed out. "Of course, all the seriously wounded have already been taken care of, but I am sure there are a number of broken bones and other injuries still waiting for treatment."

Barbara frowned. "Then why didn't you wake me earlier?! You saw the phone ringing!"

"Because you needed the sleep," Walter replied evenly. "How would you be able to treat patients when you could barely stand up?" he asked, then laid Barbara's phone in her outstretched hand. He closed her fingers around it. "You have some texts too; one of them might be from Jim."

"Oh!" Barbara's eyes lit up.

"If anything happens while I'm gone tonight I still have a phone as well," Walter reminded Barbara, pulling his own phone out from his single pocket.

It was a strange sight – seeing the green, bare-chested troll waving around a modern piece of equipment.

Barbara smiled, amused. "Alright. Well, I'd better get to the hospital then," she said. "And I'm assuming you'll come back here when you're finished doing what you need to do."

"I'm leaving the cradle stone here." Walter pointed at the table where the stone still rested. "So, yes, I will indeed be coming back."

Barbara walked over to the stone and stared down into it. Her gaze was met by the thousands of children trapped inside. "Oh, they are so cute!" she gushed.

Walter blinked, bewildered at Barbara's fascination with the former familiars, then he frowned at the stone, not at all pleased with the prospect of so many screeching infants all in one place.

"I just want to pinch all their cute little cheeks! Poor things," Barbara said, her heart melting as she longingly looked at all of them. "Hello," she waved at the babies. "Hello there." All the little ones giggled and laughed and some waved chubby hands back at her. "Aww!" Barbara exclaimed just as Walter stepped into view beside her, triggering mass hysteria among the children.

Walter jumped back, startled by the sudden noise. The move only made the crying intensify.

"Hey! Hey, it's okay," Barbara soothed as she picked up the stone and rocked it as though she held in her arms a flesh and blood child instead of a cold, hard stone. "He looks strange at first, I know, but he's not going to hurt you."

Walter groaned and rubbed his offended ears.

"Shh… That's right. Calm down." Barbara rocked the stone a bit more and the crying subsided, replaced by laughter once again.

Walter grumbled, annoyed. He muttered something about underdeveloped brains and overdeveloped lungs.

Barbara glanced over at him. "Don't blame them too much. To their eyes, you do look like the kind of monster that would be hiding under the bed waiting to eat them," Barbara pointed out.

Walter stared at her, his eyes glowing a tinge brighter. "I am exactly the kind of monster waiting under the bed to devour them," he snarled, holding a hand over his chest.

"Well, when you put it like that, can you really blame them for being afraid?" Barbara asked, letting the stone bounce up and down, keeping the babies' eyes on her.

"No, that is, in fact, quite sensible behavior." Walter relaxed and let out another sigh. "Healthy fear is what keeps humans alive. Far too often it is all they have."

Barbara smirked and shook her head. "Well, I had better get to work," she said as she gently set the stone back down on the table. "I hope you've found the information we need by the time I come back. We really need to know what to do with all these little darlings." She gave the cradle stone one last, fond smile then walked over to Walter. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll see you later, Walt. Bye." Without another word she grabbed what she needed for work and hurried out the door.

Wide-eyed, Walter stared after her. He slowly raised a disbelieving hand to the place where Barbara just kissed him.

He didn't quite have the capacity to register what the gesture meant. It was so quick and looked like something Barbara had done without thinking. But… what did it mean?

Walter shook his head. "Keep it together!" he chided himself. "It obviously didn't mean a thing."

He was a troll now; she was a human. The mere notion that such a thing could be was absolutely ridiculous. All he could do now was what he said he would – protect her. That would have to be enough.


	3. Mission

Barbara trudged through the front door with a groan, her head swirling from the insanely long day. Not that the crazy hours were too surprising, but she really wished they had more people to help at work.

She had managed to work through the rest of the night, catch a little bit of sleep at the hospital, then work through the day again. She rubbed her tired eyes as she closed the door behind her.

"I'm home," she called out of habit, then realized… Jim wasn't here… She shut her eyes, fighting off the urge to cry.

Soft clicking drifted to her ears from the living room, almost like the sound of computer keys. The thought that Jim might be back made Barbara's heart leap and she rushed to look for him, but the sight of a green changeling sitting on her couch with a laptop stopped her short.

The computer wasn't the only thing with him; all around Walter were stacks of books and papers. Two books lay open on the couch and the cradle stone sat on the dining table half a room away.

"Hello," Walter addressed her without even looking up from his laptop. "How was your day?"

Barbara smiled, amused at the outright ordinary comment coming from the odd-looking creature sitting in her living room. "Hellish," she admitted. "There were sooo many people, and absolutely not enough staff." She dumped her bag by the stairs and went to look at the items Walter brought back from his excursion. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Yes, thank God." Walter let out a relived breath. "So, one of the answers we needed is, as long as the children are inside the cradle stone they will be fine. No nutrients are needed, and they will not grow at all. They are in a sort of stasis," he supplied. "Thankfully it is possible to remove each baby individually; however, once removed, they will have all the needs of a normal baby."

"I see." Barbara pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "So, they're alright?" Barbara asked.

"They are quite safe," Walter replied.

Barbara looked at the webpages Walter had up on his laptop and blinked in surprise. "Orphanages?" she asked.

"Over a thousand infants reside inside that stone. What else are we supposed to do with them?" Walter asked, looking up at Barbara. "There are many countries that offer the possibility of giving babies up for adoption anonymously. We can't just dump them all at one single adoption center. We will have to spread them out - travel to as many countries as possible and as many states here in the US as we can. We must deliver them without being seen and move on. I would do this myself, but I can't." He started to say something else, but hesitated.

Barbara pushed aside the open books and sat down on the couch beside him, waiting for him to continue.

"I will… need your help," he finally added.

"Giving them up to adoption agencies?" Barbara asked.

"Of course, we'll only be traveling to first-world countries," Walter assured. "I won't just drop them off in the middle of the poorest country in Africa or the middle of a civil war. Wherever we leave them, we'll make sure they're safe."

"I see." Barbara nodded. "Your plan does sound like the best thing we can do for them," she admitted, looking at the screen again. The site Walter was on was in a language she didn't recognize.

"This one is in Switzerland," Walter pointed to the red and white logo at the top of the page. "Their adoption agencies seem quite ideal, and there's a Gyre's station inside the country."

"Gyre?" Barbara asked.

"It's for fast travel. Trolls have a tunnel system underground that spans the entire globe. The vehicles are called Gyres," Walter explained. "We can travel into most of these countries using the Gyres; however, the stations are far away from cities. I won't be able to move around on the surface before dark, so I will need you to rent cars and transport us during the daylight hours."

"Wait, you want us to travel to several countries in Europe with this… Gyre thing? And then move around in the middle of the night like criminals to drop off babies?" Barbara asked.

"Europe and the States," Walter corrected her. "Canada, Australia, and New Zealand also seem like descent places for children to grow up. That is, of course, unless you have a better idea?" he offered.

Barbara frowned thoughtfully, then shrugged. "No, this sounds like the best option to me," she admitted. "I'll have to take some leave from work though."

"That would be advisable," Walter said. "The good news is that there is no rush. The children will be fine as long as they are confined to the stone."

"Walt, seriously. We can't just trap them inside that stone for months and months!" Barbara objected. "That's terrible. Just look at them." She gestured to the amber stone. "All those cute little angels – they want to get out of there and meet the world."

Walter raised an eyebrow at her categorization of them as "angels." The sentiment was lost to her as she waved at the trapped children, uttering unintelligible noises in their direction.

"Hello there. Yes, hello!" she stared into the stone, oblivious to anything else. "And bitty bitty booh! And bitty bitty booh to you!" Barbara cooed, making the babies giggle.

"Well, when you manage to get that vacation, let me know." Walter pulled out another book. "The sooner we begin, the sooner it will be over with," he rolled his eyes at the thought of listening to so many infants for months on end.

Barbara looked back at him just in time to catch Walter rolling his eyes. She snorted, amused. Pulling herself up off the couch, she started to head upstairs, then she hesitated as a thought struck her. "We're… going to travel the world…? I've never even been outside the US before."

"It's not going to be a vacation," Walter reminded her from behind his book. "We can't be seen. I most certainly can't be seen."

"Yes, I know, but... We're going to travel the world! When I was young, I always wanted to go to Europe. I wanted to see France," her eyes glazed over as the old longing for travel tapped at her heart.

Hearing the change in her voice, Walter lowered his book. "I see… Why didn't you just go?" he asked.

Barbara sat back down next to him. "Well, I planned to go after I finished medical school." She smiled sheepishly. "But then… Well… I met James… Then I got pregnant. I didn't even have my degree yet. James left after Jim was born, and – well, I had a child I had to take care of."

"Ah." Walter couldn't think of anything to say to that. He stared down at his book, reading the same sentence five times. "I suppose we can spend a few extra days in France if you want to – But only a few days," he allowed.

Barbara broke out into a huge grin. "You really mean it?! France?" she asked. "Thank you, Walt!" she beamed, throwing her arms around his neck. Walter's eyes widened in surprise until she let him go again.

"I know this won't be a vacation and we'll have to be really careful." She leaned back on the couch, picturing the French countryside. "It's been so long since I thought I might actually be able to take a trip anywhere besides the café."

Walter kept his eyes glued to his book. "Once this is all over and we manage to deal with the children, the Gyre's station will still be there. We can go wherever you want then. I… um…" He cleared his throat. "I mean – that is – if you want to," he corrected. "I'm afraid I'm not the best traveling partner anymore. I can't exactly escort you down the streets of Paris."

"That's okay." Barbara smiled. "We can still take a walk through a French vineyard under the stars, looking at the moon." She grinned from ear to ear.

Walter blinked and dared a glance at Barbara. "Another dream of yours?" he asked, pointing at her.

"I've always wanted to see a vineyard," Barbara admitted. "I thought it would be during the day though, but night time will do just fine too."

"Heh," Walter chuckled awkwardly as Barbara got up again and headed for the kitchen.

"I'm making some tea; do you want some?" she called from the other room.

"That sounds lovely," Walter replied, returning to his book. He smiled at Barbara's enthusiasm, and he had to keep from humming to himself as he listened to her working in the kitchen. About twenty minutes later, she came back with two mugs of tea and a big sandwich for herself. She set the food down on the coffee table.

"I need to learn how to make better food," Barbara muttered. "Jim was always so good to me. If he were here now he would already have started cooking me something nutritious."

"My cooking isn't quite up to his standards, sadly," Walter replied. "But I can cook a decent meal when needed. Just say the word." He picked up the tea and took a sip. He choked and spit it back out.

"Walt?" she asked, horrified. "Is something wrong? Is it that bad?"

"I forgot," Walter groaned. "Troll taste buds are quite different from humans. And I used to like tea," he muttered, disappointed.

Tears welled up in Barbara's eyes as she remembered Jim's struggle to eat ordinary dinner. She stared down into her mug. "Is there… something else I can get you?"

"No. It's fine," Walter assured. "I can take care of my own needs."

"So… What do trolls eat?" Barbara finally asked. "I mean..."

Walter sighed. "We can't eat things that are cooked," he said. "Carbohydrates – like bread and pasta – we don't deal very well with. Any meat we consume… needs to be…" he pretended to scroll through his open browser tabs to keep from looking at Barbara, "raw." He cleared his throat and continued, "Other than that, we eat mostly minerals. The reason why you see trolls snacking on household items is they contain metal or at least a few trace minerals. Some trolls have also developed a taste for fabric, or even plastic, but all of that is basically junk food for a troll." He wrinkled his nose at the thought of indulging in such tasteless trash. "I shall sustain myself on minerals though. You won't have to worry," he assured. "There should be plenty left at Trollmarket."

"Minerals… You mean stones?" Barbara asked. "As in plain old rocks?"

"Yes," Walter replied.

"Do you think Jim will be eating that kind of thing too?" Barbara asked.

"Yes, I should imagine so." Walter nodded. "After what you told me it seems like his digestive system is more troll than human. At least, his taste buds are."

"Oh, I see." Barbara looked away.

Walter swallowed and cleared his throat. "Have you gotten any new texts from him?" he asked.

"Oh, Yes!" Barbara exclaimed, pulling out her phone. "This one came when I left the hospital. 'Hello, Mom. We are getting ready to move out again since the sun is about to set. I'll write you when we stop again. Love you. Jim.'" She sighed. "Well, at least he's fine… Not much else going on though."

"He's probably just been resting during the daylight hours and didn't have much to talk about," Walter pointed out. "He's fine. That's the important bit, right?"

Barbara nodded. "Yes, it is." She sighed then yawned deeply as she picked up her sandwich, only to fight off another yawn.

"It's late. You've been up all day and half of last night. You should go to bed when you finish that," Walter said.

Barbara nodded and said through yet another yawn, "Yeah, I'll do that."

"Good." Walter gave her an approving nod. "I'll be going out soon. I'm not quite sure when I'll be back, I have... much to do. But you can call me or send a text at any time."

"I know," Barbara assured him, taking the last bite of her sandwich as she got up and went into the kitchen to put her plate in the dishwasher.

A minute later she came back, bent down, and kissed Walter on the cheek. "Goodnight, Walt," she said, then headed off toward the stairs, once again leaving a very stunned Walter all alone.

"She did it again!" he thought. What was this? Was she going to kiss his cheek every single time they said goodbye to each other? Walter set his laptop down on the coffee table and leaned forward, rubbing his pounding head. Nothing! It obviously meant nothing.


	4. Laying them to rest

There were two things Barbara noticed when she woke the next morning: one, the sun was up which meant trolls couldn't roam about outside – including Jim and Walter; two, Walter wasn't in the house, which meant he wouldn't come back until after sunset, if then.

Barbara groaned as she rubbed her eyes and hauled herself out of bed.

It wasn't unusual for her to wake up to a quiet house. When she had late nights, she slept longer than Jim and he would already be off to school by the time she got out of bed; however, he would always leave breakfast behind for her.

This, of course, was not the case today. There was no cold omelet in the fridge with her name atop it scribbled on a little slip of paper.

Loneliness rolled over her as she wandered down to the kitchen and stared into the refrigerator. Of course, Jim was her son, not her husband, and sons were supposed to leave sooner or later. But he left so suddenly… Everything recently seemed to happen without warning and it was a lot to deal with all at once.

Barbara grabbed the milk, shut the fridge door and pulled a bowl and cereal box out of the cupboard. She wondered if Jim would still be up, or if he was already asleep for the day. She pulled out her phone and brought up the dial pad, hitting the first number on her speed-dial list. She lifted the cell to her ear. A few seconds later she heard the unmistakable click of someone picking up the phone and a familiar voice made her heart catch in her throat.

"Hey, Mom. What's up?" Jim said.

Barbara smiled. His voice wasn't entirely as she remembered it. Instead of the innocent voice of her little boy, this voice was a bit deeper and gruffer but still absolutely him.

"Hey, Jim," she replied. "I'm sorry; I just wanted to hear your voice."

"Heh. That's alright. I should have called sooner," Jim replied. "I just… well, I didn't know if you were at work or sleeping or… you know."

"I know," Barbara assured. "Thank you for all the messages, they really help."

"Your messages… they help me too," Jim admitted, then he asked, "Mom… are you doing okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Barbara replied. "I've mostly just been sleeping and working." She picked up the cereal box and poured some into the bowl.

"Have you remembered to eat probably?" Jim chided. "You can't just live on cereal!"

At that Barbara burst out laughing. "I feel like this should be the other way around. I should be asking you if you've eaten well enough," she pointed out.

"Of course I have, Mom," Jim said. "Both Blinky and Claire are making sure I take care of myself. I can't count the number of times they've asked me when I last ate or slept. They're looking after me fine. Don't worry. You though, you're um..."

"Well, Walt offered to cook for me," Barbara said.

"Strickler is there with you?" Jim asked. "I mean – well..."

"Not right now," Barbara said. "He's – Actually, I'm not sure where he is. He told me about all the stuff he needs to do. It sounds like a lot." The shutters separating the kitchen from the dining room were open and her eyes landed on the cradle stone, still sitting on the table. "He'll be back though, he left some things here."

"What?!" Jim asked, sounding alarmed. "What kinds of things? Nothing dangerous, right?"

"Jim, you hid trolls in my basement and left a century-old wizard in my living room. I don't think you get to judge him too much here," Barbara scolded lightly.

"Sorry, Mom," Jim muttered abashed. "I just – is he treating you okay?"

"Of course he is." Barbara smiled, touched that her son was still looking out for her. "You don't need to be so worried."

"Sorry, Mom. I know he loves you – really, honestly loves you. I've just been through so much with him – I think I can trust him, but it's still hard. There's this part of him – a part that's… If you'd ever seen him fight you'd understand. It's hard to explain. That part of him still scares me – that he can change so fast! I mean, not from human to troll, but his nature. I mean…" Jim's stumbling grew worse as he went on. "Uh – And – Well, knowing you're – alone with him… I just – want you to be safe." He sighed. "But I know you're safe with him. I'm just being stupid."

"I'm glad you worry about me, and that you're being honest," she said. "And… I know, there are sides to him I haven't seen yet. He only shows me his sophisticated side, but I know there's more he's hiding. And yeah, that scares me," she admitted.

She heard Jim swallow hard. "Part of me is like that now too."

"Oh, Jim." Barbara forced down the knot in her throat. "I know. There's this new piece of you – a side that isn't human. But it doesn't matter. I still love you, so very much."

"Thanks, Mom…" Jim replied.

Barbara heard hints of both relief and happiness in his voice.

"You don't need to thank me; I'm your mother. I'll always love you, no matter what." Barbara's heart beat a little harder. "And I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"Mom..." Jim hesitated. "I… I want… you to do whatever you need to do to be happy," he said.

Barbara smiled. "Thank you, Jim. And I want you to do the same thing. I know it's only been two days, but… I miss you so much." she gulped down her longing to see her son's face again.

"I miss you too," Jim said, his voice sinking a little bit with the desire to be reunited with her again. "It's okay though, once we get to New Jersey and find a new home for the trolls you can come visit."

"I look forward to it. I'm sure Toby will be thrilled to go see you too."

"Yeah, I bet," Jim chuckled. "Poor Tobes, left all alone to handle school." He sighed. "He'll be fine though; Tobes was always way tougher than people gave him credit for, and he has AAARRRGGHH! with him. They'll be okay."

"I'm sure they will." Barbara pried her phone away from her ear long enough to check the time. "Well… I need to go to work soon," she said. "You make sure to rest now, okay."

"Mom! I told you, both Blinky and Claire are after me all the time about that! I've got a few scrapes, but I'm not dying!" Jim countered.

Barbara chuckled at her son's annoyance, but as she prepared to end the conversation, she choked up. "Thanks for talking to me." She bit her trembling lip. "I'll call again soon."

"Call any time you want," Jim invited. "I'll always have my phone on me."

"Good, well… talk to you later." Barbara forced another smile, hoping it would keep her from crying.

"Talk to you later. Love you, Mom." Jim said.

"Love you too, Jim." Barbara stayed on the line until she heard the call disconnect. She slowly put the phone away, thankful beyond words for the invention of telecommunication. Even though it compounded her feelings of loneliness, the fact that she could talk with Jim so easily did set her mind at ease. Waiting for letters to arrive – that would have killed her for sure.

She put the milk back in the fridge, poured the handful of Cheri-O's back into the box and grabbed a granola bar before getting ready for work and heading out.

When she came home again that night Walter was still nowhere to be seen. Barbara pulled out her phone and shot him a quick text, "I'm home from work. Where are you?"

It took a while but finally the reply came, "Janus Order headquarters. I won't be able to come back tonight. Get some rest."

Barbara frowned as she texted back, "How do I get there?"

This time the reply was instantaneous, "Don't you have work tomorrow? You need to get to sleep."

"Tomorrow is my day off. Yes, I have those, believe it or not. How do I get to the Janus headquarters?"

This time it took a while for the reply to pop up, but for good reason. The three-paragraph response detailed specifically where she needed to go and what she needed to do to enter the top-secret underground facility.

 

* * *

 

Barbara wasn't sure what to expect from a place so ancient as the Janus Order. She knew there were numberless corpses littering the facility, but when she finally arrived and saw the scattered remains herself she nearly wept. The bones of murdered changelings lay everywhere, strewn across the floors of the modern construction.

"Walt…?" she called out as she stepped off the elevator and into the entryway. Her voice echoed down the curved halls. She took a careful step, avoiding a shattered skull. "Walt, where are you?" She picked her way down the hall.

Halfway to the first corridor intersection she looked back and noticed the entire floor was covered in a thick layer of gray dust, so thick she could clearly see the trail of shoeprints she'd left.

"Walt!" she called again.

"In here…" his gruff voice finally replied.

Barbara followed the sound of his voice, trekking a bit farther into the facility and turning into a large room. She stepped inside and was met with a startling sight.

Inside lay lines of ordered bones. Every skeleton was put together meticulously and lined up with care. The last line was incomplete. Walter knelt on the floor, carefully placing another set of bones, recreating one more skeleton.

"Walt..." Barbara breathed, wide-eyed.

"I emptied this room," Walter stated as he carefully placed each bone. "Took out all the electronics, and the furniture. When the remains are in place I'll seal the room."

Barbara's heart ached as she realized what Walter was doing. He was making a tomb...

"When trolls die they turn to stone. It is customary for trolls to keep the remains and put them proudly on display. Trolls believes that in that way the spirit of the deceased troll will remain and protect them," said Walter. "If a troll is smashed apart, other trolls will take great care in collecting all the pieces and reassembling the deceased, so he can stand with honor even as a stone." He continued assembling the skeleton. "But changelings… they don't turn to stone; they turn to dust."

Barbara's eyes widened, and she looked down at the thick layer of grey she stood in.

Walter glanced at her and saw her eye the floor with discomfort. "You are correct in your assumption. What you see is indeed changeling remains."

Barbara sucked in a deep breath and went over to Walter, giving the dusty floor a long look before sitting down beside him, reverently choosing a bone and placing it in its proper location.

Walter looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm a doctor." Barbara shrugged. "What kind of medical professional would I be if I didn't know anatomy or couldn't handle a skeleton?" she asked.

Walter smirked. "My apologies." He looked over his shoulder toward the hallway, and the many remains still lying in it unattended. Even with the several dozen skeletons so carefully remade he hadn't even made a dent in the carnage with his endeavor.

Barbara followed his gaze. "Did you… know some of these people?" she asked.

Walter's eyes shifted to the half-made changeling on the floor in front of him. "Some?" His eyes clouded over with memories of days past. "They were my brothers and sisters – my fellow changelings." He bowed his head, eyes closed. "We were created at Gunmar's demand to serve his every need, and then the moment he had no use for our kind anymore he murdered every last one here," Walter rumbled bitterly. "Changelings who served him faithfully their entire lives were put to death like animals because he commanded it."

Barbara's hand flew over her mouth as she listened.

Walter went on, "He promised us freedom, but he only gave us misery and then death. We were created to be used." Walter snorted in disgust, "And use us he most assuredly did – to the bitter end." He opened his red-tinged eyes, staring at the corpses with a look of savage wrath. He blinked and shook off the hot rage, his eyes glowing golden again. "Ah… I'm sorry, Barbara. Forgive me." He reached for another whitened bone.

Barbara let out a slow breath. He had nearly given in to his anger and showed her the side of him he didn't want her to see.

"It's okay," Barbara assured him, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder. Just before she touched him, she hesitated, letting her hand drop again. "Gunmar… He's the one you served, the one who had us kidnapped and wanted to kill Jim, right?" she asked.

Walter nodded without meeting her gaze. "You are correct. He ordered me to kill Jim. I had to at least give the appearance of following orders."

"So, you tried to kill him," Barbara whispered.

"Actually, no," Walter said, as he settled down on the floor next to Barbara and turned to face her, legs folded. "In fact, I did everything in my power so I wouldn't have to. No offence to Jim, but he was rather new to the mantle of Trollhunter at the time. If I had truly tried to kill him he would not have stood a chance. When I fought him in your dining room, there were several openings in his defense. I deliberately missed him. Quite frankly, it would have been easier to attack him at school instead of in his own home. There were so many times I could have killed him, but I chose not to."

Barbara's face paled as she wondered exactly how often her son had been in danger and she hadn't known about it.

Walter continued, "I had to make it look like I was loyal to Gunmar. If he had the tiniest suspicion that I'd grown weak, he would kill me. Gunmar never tolerated weak servants. If I didn't make it look like I was using Jim for the glory of Gunmar, someone else would have been sent to finish the job in my place. I know this sounds strange… after all that's happened, but even back then I tried to protect him…" Walter sighed and let his eyes drift to the finished lines of bones. "And I tried to protect the Janus Order. I even dragged you into it to try to accomplish my goals."

"I was just a tool to you back then, wasn't I?" she asked.

"Yes." Walter stiffened with shame and stared at the grey floor. "Never in my wildest imagination did I think I would actually develop feelings for you. You're just a human."

Barbara lifted an eyebrow.

Walter caught the movement out of the corner his vision. "I'm sorry," he quickly interjected. "That isn't what I meant."

She gently shook her head. "No, it's alright," she assured. "So… back then… you really…"

Walter sighed deeply, sending up a small puff of dust from the floor in front of him. "Everything was a death game. If I made one wrong move I would lose everything I had ever worked for. My life was a small price to pay… If I failed, the changelings in the Janus Order would never be free. I couldn't allow that to happen. I had to always be vigilant, never able to trust anyone. I needed to be ready to do whatever I had to do – Fight, or kill, or whatever other despicable thing was needed. I hadn't a moment's rest. There wasn't ever a time I could afford not to look over my shoulder, weapons ready. Personal feelings came at too high a price. Survival was the business I dedicated myself to. Yet… when I spent time with you it was so easy to forget all of that. Everything was so much… better." He kept his eyes on the unfinished remains. "I don't think I had ever tried to be truly happy before," he admitted.

"So… you were happy when we were together?" Barbara ventured.

"I do believe so, yes." Walter nodded. "And I wanted more of it; I wanted to keep feeling that – that little light you offered me. It felt... bigger than mere survival after spending time in your presence. Being with you was more precious to me than holding back the rage of Gunmar; it felt warm and good and I wanted more of it, so I tried to keep up pretenses for as long as possible just to feel that happiness a little bit more. I'm sorry, Barbara..."

"Good. You should be sorry," Barbara scolded, but she couldn't bring herself to be angry with him. "Still… if it had been anyone else in your position, Jim would be dead, wouldn't he?"

This elicited a reluctant nod from Walter.

Barbara went on, "Then, in a strange way, I owe you his life." She let a sad smile spread over her face. "In that case, I suppose I can forgive you."

Walter's stunned eyes snapped back to her, their thin, black slits eclipsing half of each yellow eye.

"What made me so special?" Barbara asked. "If, like you said, I'm just a mere human."

"I don't know," Walter admitted. "You're just… you."

Barbara smiled. "That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." Her smile faltered. "Thank you for telling me all this, Walt."

"Heh." Walter smiled. "You're welcome," he replied in that gruff voice of his as he looked up into Barbara's face.

Walter's eyes shone brightly as Barbara returned his gaze. She leaned forward, inching closer to Walter's face. She closed her eyes and leaned in just a bit more, ready to feel the touch of warm stone on her lips. Nothing.

Barbara opened her eyes, feeling foolish when she realized Walter's attention had already turned back to the changeling remains. She felt an instant of annoyance, but compassion squelched it and her face softened. Walter was caring for all that was left of his dead brethren. Guilt gripped her as realized how disrespectful – even rude – her action was.

Without another word, she scooted closer to Walter and offered him as much help as she could. She hoped once this tomb was finished and sealed that he would be able to bury some of his burden along with his dead past.


	5. End of an era

As it turned out, gathering all the remains and reassembling them in a respectful manner was an incredibly long and daunting task. There were so many of them… Skeletons lay everywhere, in every hall and corner of the lair.

Barbara did her best to keep going – to stay awake long enough to help Walter finish this enormous undertaking, but soon she was nodding off. She couldn't help it.

Walter finally ordered her to get some rest and showed her to some sleeping quarters the changelings used when visiting the Order. Thankfully, they managed to find one which was skeleton and dust free, allowing Barbara to lay down in peace.

The room, like everything else, looked quite modern with its white walls, sink, and even a television. But as with every other room in the underground labyrinth, there were no windows, which made sense since there was nothing outside to see.

"Did you often sleep here?" Barbara asked Walter.

"No, I never did," Walter replied. "I have – had an apartment in the city. The changelings who slept here usually lived in other parts of the world and were just here on a short visit."

"All over the world…? So… some of them might still be alive?" Barbara asked.

"No," Walter said, downcast. "They all gathered here to greet Gunmar, but it was a trap. Nomura, your son's friend NotEnrique, and I are the only ones left. Though I suppose that's not really so; we aren't truly changelings anymore after all – just trolls." He sighed deeply. "The age of changelings is over. That is just how it is."

"So, you really are just like any other troll?" Barbara asked.

"Well, in any practical sense, yes, I suppose." Walter nodded. "The differences now are only very minor, I am smaller than other trolls. When I die I'll still turn into dust, not stone."

"You have wings." Barbara glanced at his cape. "Do other trolls have wings?"

"Regular trolls? No." Walter shook his head. "I… was created by Morgana," he admitted. "She gave some changelings she considered her champions special abilities to aid them in serving Gunmar, and ultimately her as well."

"Created…?" Barbara asked.

"Well, I suppose a better way to look at it is this: remember the way Merlin changed Jim? He created the creature that Jim has now become. He designed him to serve a specific purpose," Walter said. "In the same way, Morgana took troll infants and changed them. She made new beings. She created me and gave me these wings," he flexed the appendages just enough to ruffle his cloak, "and the ability to form a bond with a familiar. That is not a normal troll ability. We were designed purposefully."

"I can't say I understand too much of this," Barbara said as she took a seat on the low bed. "I just know I really don't like wizards!" Barbara kicked off her dusty shoes and curled up into the bed. "Toying with other people's bodies – with their very beings? It makes me sick," she muttered.

Walt shook his head as Barbara's eyes started to sink shut. "Get some rest. I'll… Well, you know what I'll be doing."

"Yeah." Barbara nodded with a yawn. "Just give me an hour and I'll come help again."

Walter managed a smile. "Just get the rest you need." He started for the door. "Goodnight, Barbara."

"'Night," Barbara mumbled, closing her eyes as Walter quietly closed the door.

 

* * *

 

 

When Barbara woke up, it was to the smell of food. Her stomach rumbled as she caught a whiff of chicken. Her eyes flew open and she found the source of the smell. Sitting on the bedside table was a freshly-made chicken sandwich and a steaming cup of coffee.

Immediately, Barbara's stomach grumbled again, and she started into the sandwich, happy to discover the grilled chicken was still warm.

With what remained of her sandwich and coffee in hand, Barbara left the room only to be brought to a halt by the sound of two rather animated voices.

"I told you! Do not touch anything!" Walter snarled, clearly quite angry about something.

"Geesh, calm down. I was just trying to help!" Toby's familiar voice replied.

"I don't require any more of your 'help,' Domzalski. You are dismissed!" Walter growled.

"Keep away from Wing-man!" AAARRRGGHH!'s deep voice cut in as Barbara rounded a corner just in time to see all three in the middle of a heated argument.

Walter, Toby and AAARRRGGHH! stared each other down.

"What's going on here?" Barbara aske with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh! Hey, Mrs. L." Toby waved at her with a grin. "How's the sandwich? I didn't know what you liked so I thought chicken was a safe bet."

"You picked up the sandwich?" Barbara asked.

"Well, Mr. Strickler sent me a text saying I needed to make myself useful for once." Toby shrugged. "I guess he can't just walk into a sandwich shop anymore huh? It's okay though; with all the food Jimbo has made for me which you paid for, I think I owe ya."

"Thank you, Toby. It was very nice of you to help." Barbara smiled at the young teen then asked Walter, "So, what were you fighting about?"

Walter hissed, annoyed. He crossed his arms. "Mr. Domzalski seems to lack a certain respect."

"Well, I saw him carrying around all those bones and assumed he was cleaning up, so I tried to help," Toby said, bending over to pick up a bone.

"I told you not to touch that!" Walter roared, making Toby drop the bone in shock and take a step away from his former teacher.

"Geesh, sorry!" Toby turned to Barbara. "What's up with him?" he asked pointing a thumb at Walter.

Barbara let out a sad sigh. "Toby… it's very sweet that you want to help. These bones though – they used to be people – people Walt knew. He's just trying to… put them to rest, with a bit of dignity."

Toby's eyes widened. "Oh," he murmured. "You... You're… burying them?" he asked Walter.

Walter groaned and rolled his eyes in feigned indifference. "If you really must know." He started down the hall. When Toby didn't follow him, he beckoned the boy. "Come."

Toby's eyes widened. "Wow… You moved all of those in there?" he asked upon seeing the room filed with changeling remains.

"Indeed. And when it's finally done, I'm going to seal it shut," Walter said. "Anything of value here will be moved to Trollmarket, and then I will destroy everything else before I seal the whole area, so no one will ever be able to enter. This will be the final tomb for the changelings. No trace of us will remain; it will be like we never existed at all."

"Wow…" AAARRRGGHH! rumbled, sympathetic.

"So, you're going to destroy all evidence that changelings were ever around?" Toby asked. "Erase them from history…? Are you okay with that, Mr. Strickler?"

"Changeling kind is dead. It's better if we bury what remains and seal it," Walter said, and then groaned, holding a hand to his aching head.

"Walt?" Barbara approached him, concerned.

Walter looked away.

Toby looked up at the changeling, and then towards the room filled with remains. "I – I'm really sorry, Mr. Strickler. I didn't mean to be disrespectful. I… can see why you don't want my help moving the bones, but AAARRRGGHH! and I can move the stuff you want to keep over to Trollmarket, right?" he asked. "AAARRRGGHH! can carry a lot of stuff in one go, so if you just put it aside we can take it."

"I don't know," Walter hesitated.

"I think that's a wonderful idea! It would make moving everything so much easier." Barbara would have applauded Toby's thinking if it weren't for the sandwich and coffee still in her hands. "Wouldn't it, Walt?" she asked, eliciting a sigh from Walter.

"Yes," he finally admitted.

Toby grinned, and AAARRRGGHH! cracked a relieved smile.

Walter hated to say it, but with the help of Toby and AAARRRGGHH! their efforts sped up considerably. Walter put aside the artifacts and books that needed salvaging, and as promised, Toby put them in big bags hung over AAARRRGGHH!'s shoulders. They tied bigger items to the Krubera's back with tight knots and headed for Trollmarket.

It took more hours than Barbara cared to count to move the skeletons to their final resting place and ferry the artifacts safely away.

Within a few days, all the skeletons were painstakingly arrayed throughout the room. Walter left a few of what appeared to be the deceased's private possessions lined up against one wall.

Once the hardest jobs were done, Walter went to work dismembering the computers. He opened them up and removed any memory card or data chip so no one else could stumble upon the information stored here and use it. The dismantling of the facility was total. Only one thing remained – sealing it shut forever and leaving this place behind.

Walter stood at the grave's door. He surveyed the last remnants of his brethren.

"Walt..." Barbara stepped up beside him.

Walter swallowed. "I…" he breathed. "For so long I fought with everything I had. I stayed alive, doing all I had to do for one single reason – to set them free. I wanted to make a world where changelings could do as they wished and walk about in safety, but now they…" his voice trailed off and tears welled up in his eyes. "I couldn't save them. I couldn't set them free. Even with everything I did…This – this is how it was always going to end, wasn't it? My fight was futile."

"You still want to seal this place?" asked Barbara.

Walter nodded. "The history of the changelings – it only contains pain and misery. There were no victors in this sordid war. Children were taken away from their families; trolls were mutated into something else. Nothing good came out of this…. In that light, it is probably better that it's over." He stepped out into the hall and pressed the lock button beside the door. A metal door snapped down over the door frame, cutting the room off from the rest of the facility. Walter withdrew a knife from his cape and crammed it into the electronic lock, rendering it useless and making it impossible for anyone to open the door without using heavy force.

Walter closed his eyes and let go of the blade. He heard the snap-hiss of fried electronics protesting as he stepped back. Barbara took his hand, her delicate fingers lacing into his stony ones.

The pair made their way to the main control room where Walter proceeded to destroy every power source except the emergency generator maintaining the elevator.

The destroyed headquarters fell into darkness. Walter led Barbara back through the pitch-black halls to the elevator. Together they stepped in one final time and rose to the surface. The desk and chair mounted on the lift platform rattled slightly on the way up, and the lamp on the desk flickered, then went out.

Walter and Barbara finally reached the top of the shaft and found themselves once again inside Omni Reach Travel – a cover identity for the Janus Order entrance.

They stepped off the elevator platform and Walter sent it back down into the darkness below. When he heard the clank of metal settling on metal he handed Barbara the one bag he'd kept with him and motioned for her to step back. He withdrew several knives from around his neck and wedged them into the machinery, breaking off pieces of each blade and cutting cables. He sliced into whatever electrical components he could find, sending a rain of sparks showering into the pit, making it impossible for anyone to ever use the elevator again.

Walter locked the Omni Reach door as they stepped out into the cold night. He straightened to his full height and took a deep, relived breath as he shed his knives. They landed with a tremendous clank.

"It's... over?" Barbara whispered.

Walter nodded. "Yes." He held out a hand toward Barbara, asking for the bag she still carried. She handed it to him and he reached in, producing a generous cloak. It was large enough to conceal his entire body and face, even providing ample protection from the sun and the questioning eyes of passersby.

He threw on the cloak. "Now, I believe we have other tasks to attend to."

"Walt, you need to rest. You haven't slept at all since you started this," Barbara pointed out.

Walter nodded, looking too exhausted to object. He said nothing when Barbara took his hand and guided him home.


	6. Differences

Walter couldn't say he particularly cared for his current situation. He was in Barbara's house, but she wasn't home. While she worked, he was left alone with his thoughts.

It was bright and sunny outside, at least, he thought it was from what he could gather by staring at the closed drapes.

He felt trapped, stuck in the house. Walter groaned. What he wouldn't give for the ability to walk in the sunlight right now. Being confined was a feeling he despised.

After he sealed off the Janus Order headquarters, Barbara insisted he rest, and he had, but he could only rest for so long.

His next course of action was to plan their route through Europe. He already had a working itinerary for their first foray abroad. The resources left behind by the Janus Order were serving him well. He'd already made a fake passport for Barbara, in fact, he'd made several to hide their route and her identity. He still had access to all the Order's finances – quite a sum – and transferring funds to his personal account was simple.

Financially, there were set for quite some time. Aside from planning, there wasn't much Walter could do. He sat at the table and groaned, frustrated.

Boredom wasn't something he was used to. For as long as he could remember, he'd always had a role to play – something he had to do. Now… there was nothing. He looked at his green, stony hands, then caught his reflection in one of Barbara's picture frames. The glass only showed part of his face, and his shining eyes stared back at him.

This was his true form. Walter wasn't human – had never been human to begin with. He narrowed his eyes at his own face and shook his head.

Walter closed his eyes and tried to change, a motion once so natural for him, like flexing a muscle. Nothing happened.

His voice remained gruff, his body still stone. Horns still sprouted from his head. He hissed in annoyance and flung a chair at the wall. With a groan, he scolded himself for losing his temper.

He knew this day would come. Jim declared long ago that was going to save the familiars. Walter had accepted that. So why then did he still try to change back to his human form? He knew it was impossible.

Trolls were so much more primitive than humans, and he had to constantly fight those urges. He wanted nothing more than to tear every piece of furniture in the house to sheds and devour several of the appliances.

What was he doing here? He clamped his eyes shut and took a breath. He reminded himself he was here to protect Barbara. They couldn't be together, not anymore, but he could keep her safe. He couldn't be her lover, but he could be her guardian, and that would have to be enough. It was far more than he deserved.

His phone, sitting atop the table, vibrated. Walter glanced at it, surprised to see Jim's name. He shrugged and picked up the call. "Ah, Young Atlas. How may I be of service?"

There was an odd quiet in the other end.

"Jim?" Walter asked.

"Ah… I… I'm sorry," Jim replied hesitantly.

Walter sighed. "Come now, what is it Know-it-all-six-eyes doesn't know this time?"

"That's not it," Jim said. "It's that – I just – Do you have time to talk?" he asked.

Walter stopped, surprised. He frowned, wondering what this was all about. Was it Barbara? Probably. What else could it be? Something about ancient artifacts and curses, perhaps.

"I have time," Walter replied, standing and taking a few steps toward the draped windows. "What is it?"

Silence again.

"Young Atlas, when I said I had time, I didn't mean all day," Walter prodded.

"I'm sorry… I just…" Jim tried. "Erhh…."

Realization dawned on Walter. This had nothing to do with Barbara, or their impending journey. It was about Jim. His hybrid state was something of an anomaly. There were struggles he had that no other troll or human alive could relate to.

Walter took a seat on the couch and waited to see if Jim would say anything else. After a moment of silence Walter asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, fine," Jim replied. "Things are…. great."

"Really?" Walter asked, eyebrow raised. "Becoming a new species, having to live amongst a people whose culture vastly differs from your own, moving to a new place with crime rates much higher than Arcadia, oh – and, of course, you're still wounded from your fight with Gunmar. Yes, that all sounds quite wonderful."

Jim laughed, some of his anxiety eased.

"So, let's try this again. How are you, Jim?" Walter asked.

"I'm…. I don't know," Jim admitted. "Everything is so…. I don't even know. We're travelling at night, getting closer to Jersey, but, man, the trolls are being a pain! Blinky has his hands full, and Claire is super close to losing it… I wish I could do something to help."

"You saved all of their lives, on multiple occasions," Walter offered. "I think it's only fair they take care of you for a while."

"But that's not the point," Jim replied with a deep sigh. "Strickler… uh… You – You're stuck in your troll form, aren't you?" he asked.

Walter let a few seconds of silence lapse before answering. "Yes. The bond to my familiar was broken when he was rescued from the Darklands. I do believe Nomura is the same way, isn't she?"

"Yeah, but she doesn't seem to care," Jim commented. "Like… she was more troll than human to begin with anyway, so she doesn't mind too much. But you… Do you miss being human?" he asked.

Now Jim was getting to the heart of the matter. "Well, to be honest… Yes," Walter admitted.

"I see," Jim replied. "It's funny, isn't it? How much you take for granted? There's so many things that I can't do anymore, like go take Claire out for dinner. I can't go watch a movie or go to school. I can't even take a walk in the park. Human food tastes awful. There are… so many things I never even thought about, and now I can't stop thinking about them – all the time."

"Yes," Walter replied sadly. "That does seem to be the state of things."

"I'm afraid of hurting Claire," Jim admitted. "Sometimes I'm scared to touch her. Trolls can take a lot of abuse, but humans – I never realized how fragile we – they are."

"You're absolutely right about that," Walter said. "Their bones break far too easily. They get sick; they age so quickly."

"We're going to outlive them… aren't we?" Jim asked. "Claire, Toby… Mom. We're going to live so much longer than them. And I mean, you know, a lot longer."

Walter held the phone in silence.

"Strickler?" Jim asked.

"What you say is true, Young Atlas," Walter admitted. "Trolls can live for millennia; in comparison to that, a human life span seems like nothing."

"But, if that's true," Jim hesitated. "Why would you even – I mean. Why would you bother being with my mom?" he asked. "She's going to die. Claire is going to –" He stopped, not daring to finish the sentence.

"Jim," Walter said. "When you've lived for as long as I have, the years roll by, one indistinguishable from the next. Life becomes one long blur. The world changes around you and you barely notice it. You don't remember specific days or years most of the time." His eye caught one of the pictures on the wall. It was Barbara's graduation picture, from when she'd gotten her M.D. "But then… there are those few moments that stand out so clearly. Those are what matter. They shine far above all the rest. Those are the moments you know you were truly living."

Walter remembered when this whole business began – when he'd come over in human form to talk with Barbara about Jim and how he was doing in school. Now he sat on her couch, trollish features unmasked. His appearance had changed, but so had his heart.

"When I'm with Barbara, those are the moments I can truly say I'm alive. Hundreds of years I've lived, and I barely remember them, but those moments with her… I'm sure I will cherish them forever. And in a hundred years… in five hundred, when I look back on them… they will stand out so clearly to me that I will never forget what it was like to truly live," Walter said, voice low. "It's about grasping the moment and living right now. Yes, one day it will just be memories, but they will be priceless memories. And even though this time of your life will end, that doesn't change the present, or how much today matters. You'll become a better person for it, Jim. At least, I hope so."

"Huh…" Jim said thoughtfully. "Meeting my mom really is what changed you, isn't it?" he admitted. "It hurts to think about it, but she won't stop mattering just because she –" Jim stopped again.

" – dies…" A pang of loneliness hit Walter as he finished Jim's sentence. "But that won't make the moments we had together any less meaningful. They'll always be precious to me, for as long as I live. The way she raised you, it made you into the fine young man you are today. Even if she's gone, you Young Atlas, will surely carry on her spirit."

"Just like you to be so dramatic about it," Jim quipped to Walter's amusement. "I heard you sealed off the Janus Order HQ."

"Domzalski told you, I assume," said Walter. "Yes, it now serves as a tomb, the final resting place for the changelings. I would be grateful if you would not disturb it further."

"Yeah, no problem," Jim replied quietly. "So, mom helped you?"

"Yes, she made the process… more bearable," Walter said.

Jim hesitated. "So…. are you two, you know, dating again?" he asked.

"I believe you will be relieved to hear that, no, we are not," Walter said with a grim smirk.

"Actually… I don't know what to think anymore to be honest," Jim admitted. "I guess Mom can take care of herself. She knows what you are now so… She can make her own decision."

"Your belief in your mother is very touching," Walter commented.

"I guess I kind of owe her that much," Jim replied, letting a moment of silence pass before continuing. "You know what I really miss? I know, this is going to sound really weird, but…I miss cheeseburgers," he said. "Those really disgusting cheeseburgers – I remember what they used to taste like, but when I put bread in my mouth now I just have to spit it out – and cooked meat too."

"Yes, cooked food doesn't sit well with trolls," Walter agreed.

"Do you miss anything?" Jim asked.

"Oh, plenty of things. I suppose that goes without saying," Walter replied. "But what I really miss… a good fillet mignon, with roasted mushrooms and a glass of wine."

"Oh, don't say that, now I want it too," Jim groaned. "Minus the wine, of course." He sighed. "I also really miss being able to go anywhere I want whenever I want. That part really is the worst."

"Tell me about it." Walter rolled his eyes. "Sunlight is one thing, but humans acting like morons when they see you is another entirely."

Jim chuckled. "Strickler, my mom is a human too."

"Well, she's the exception obviously," Walter snorted. "And I suppose your little friends are too," he commented reluctantly, making Jim laugh again.

"Thanks, Strickler. This… really helped," Jim said. "I need to go; Claire's waving at me to get off the phone."

"Any time, Young Atlas. I'm glad I could be of help, and that you're not afraid of reaching out when you need it. There are a lot of people who care about you," he reminded Jim.

"Yeah, I know. I'm lucky," Jim said. "I've got Mom, Toby, Blinky, and Claire… even you. Claire... she still always holds my hand when we walk. I like that a lot."

Walter smiled softly at Jim's words. "Remember to treasure those moments with her. Have as many of them as you can."

"Heh… I just remembered. You're the one who told me I should go talk to her instead of just looking at her. That was back when… Well, before any of this happened," Jim said.

"I remember." Walter nodded. "Well, I'm glad to hear at least some of my advice was helpful."

"You're a pretty strict teacher. I learned a lot from you," Jim pointed out. "I need to go. I'll talk to you later."

"I'll look forward to it," Walter said. "Oh, and Jim, you can call me Walter, you know. I'm not your teacher, or combat instructor anymore."

"Yeah, I guess it's just kind of habit right now. Talk to you later, Walter. Bye." The call ended.

Walter felt a sense of satisfaction well up in him as he stared at the phone. That went surprisingly well. Whatever he was going through right now, the things Jim had to deal with were a hundred times worse. It was a good thing Jim was such a remarkable young man.

He encouraged himself with the thought that if Jim could handle what was happening, so could he.


	7. Blood Rush

Monday night – really Tuesday morning Walter decided, was the ideal time. The fewest people were out and it was easier to avoid being spotted. He crawled up the wall between two buildings, sinking his sharp claws into the concrete. He leapt from building to building, chasing down a pigeon, which he finally caught. With one swift motion he bit off the creature's head. It gave a satisfactory crunch as he ate it.

It was becoming more difficult for him to keep his base urges in check while he was cooped up in Barbara's house. His pent-up frustrations rose, as he tried to fight off the biological urge to let loose. He decided it was better to get it over with and take care of the rising need to hunt and kill. He couldn't keep up his sophisticated act forever. It would drive him crazy.

There was a reason trolls often fought each other. It was their way of addressing and satisfying their instinctual drive. Walter had to admit, darting between buildings at breakneck speed felt exhilarating, like a breath of freedom after long incarceration, but it didn't fulfill that burning desire inside him to destroy something.

Walter hissed and then let out a roar as he snatched up an old, broken antenna on top of a roof. He smashed it down, breaking it into several pieces. The small show of strength sent a surge of genuine satisfaction coursing through his body.

He heard shouts behind him. "AAARRRGGHH!, stay back! Seriously, how many of these things are there?"

"Wingman!"

Walter approached the edge of the roof, looking down to spy Toby and his Krubera knee-deep in goblins. The pests jumped at them from all sides, clawing with their skinny arms and legs. Walter grinned at the thought of ripping the little beasts limb from limb.

This was the perfect opportunity. Killing a few dozen goblins was sure to satisfy this blood lust, at least for now. Walter dove into the fight, letting the heat rise inside him. His eyes burned brighter as he pulled out a knife. He landed precisely where he meant to, slicing through three goblins at once. He flung two knives, impaling another pair of the pests.

From behind AAARRRGGHH!, Toby gaped. "Strickler?" he asked, confused.

Walter didn't offer a reply. Even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't. The blood lust was too thick in his mind. He threw himself at the goblins, slicing them open with both knife and claw. He grabbed one and tore it apart with his bare hands, almost laughing as the pure joy of the massacre overwhelmed him.

He stood up, one last goblin struggling to break his choke-hold, terror in its eyes. Walter grinned as he squeezed. The goblin's head exploded, covering both Walter and Toby in green gore.

Walter let out a deep breath as the tension and frustration of before vanished and calm washed over him like a cool breeze. The blood lust was gone. From his pocket he withdrew a clean cloth and neatly wiped his face, as if nothing had happened.

"How disappointing, Domzalski," Walter commented, satisfied his voice had lost a bit of its gruff edge. "And here I thought you were calling yourself a Trollhunter." He glanced at the chubby teen.

Toby continued to gawk at Walter, Warhammer in hand. "What – what was that?" he squeaked.

"I thought that was quite obvious," Walter retorted, wiping the last of the blood from his face and neck.

"The way you were moving and fighting – I thought you'd lost it and I was gonna have to fight you too!" Toby exclaimed. "You could at least have said something!"

AAARRRGGHH! gave Walter an annoyed frown, standing protectively behind Toby.

"Woooow!"

Walter whirled around to find the source of the oddly familiar voice, knife at the ready. The voice's owner screamed at him.

"Ahhhh!" The girl, a dark-skinned teen with curly hair, jumped back.

Walter groaned, annoyed. He replaced the knife and glared at Toby. "Care to explain what she's doing here?"

"Well, Darci likes excitement, so..." Toby hesitated.

"I can't just leave my TP alone with all this responsibility," Darci Scott exclaimed. She eyed Walter. "Wow, are you really Mr. Strickler?" she asked as she stepped forward, looking up at him. "Whoa! I mean, kids like to imagine their teachers are actually monsters, but I never expected it to be true," she said, circling Walter. "It must take a lot of foundation to make you look human."

"Darci, I told you, he's a changeling," Toby tried to explain. "He can switch between being a human and a troll. Well, he used to be able to. He can't do it anymore."

"Man, that's gotta suck." Darci stopped in front of Walter. "Those are some big teeth you've got there. How do you eat with those?"

Walter glared at the girl. She was remarkably unphased for someone standing in front of a troll – especially one she'd just seen rip a troop of goblins to shreds. He turned his attention to Toby. "So, you've been blabbering to your girlfriend about everything?" he asked.

"Well, she was there at the battle with Gunmar, and she already saw all the trolls while they were fighting. She saw me fighting too. It was just a lot easier to explain everything than make stuff up," Toby said. "And I am sooo glad I did. We can go on missions together now! And I won't have to make up any excuses when I can't make it to our dates or show up late with goblin goo all over me." He grinned cheekily. "And she can help me. Man, just telling the people you care about makes everything so much better."

Darci grinned, stepping behind Toby and wrapping her arms around his neck as she leaned against him. "My TP is the coolest, isn't he? Out there, defending the city against monsters with his Warhammer. Man, that is so badass! I have the coolest boyfriend," she said.

Toby grinned.

Walter glanced at the boy… "Cool" really wasn't a word he would ever have imagined anyone using to describe Toby.

"I'm so glad I have you." Toby smiled up at Darci. "And I am so glad you get to be a part of this too. Not having to lie is the best thing ever!"

Walter sighed, staving off a headache at the sickening display. "Is there anyone else you're telling about all this?" he asked.

"Just Steve and Pepperjack," Toby replied.

Walter narrowed his eyes.

"What?" Toby held up defensive hands. "They were already involved; they helped us save the trolls a while back. I thought it was just fair to tell them what they wanted to know. Better than them walking around coming up with all these theories which, yes, they do that!" he pointed out. "And they'll act on their crazy ideas too, without even knowing what they're doing. Now, Pepperjack is suddenly all about aliens and setting up traps around town. It's kind of crazy. Better to stop them by telling them what's really going on, so they don't do something too stupid."

Walter couldn't argue with that point.

"Toby said you had wings!" Darci exclaimed. "Is that seriously true? You can fly?" she asked Walter, looking a bit too enthusiastic for his liking.

"I don't see how that is any of your concern," Walter replied.

"Aw, come on," Darci begged. "Wings, man! That is seriously cool!"

Reluctantly, Walter pushed his cape aside and unfolded his left wing a little to showcase it before he retracted the appendage, hiding it again.

"Whoooooa! And you can fly with those?!" Darcy asked.

"Yes, I can fly." Walter rolled his eyes. "However, avoiding being seen by humans proves difficult when flying, so it isn't very useful around here."

"Man, if only I had known all this when you were my teacher. I would have paid more attention in class," Darci mused.

"Why is it that I am not convinced of that?" Walter raised an eyebrow at her.

"You're right, history is still really boring," Darci grinned.

"And it is because of that attitude, young lady, it is very unlikely that you'll amount to much in life. I suggest you change it and pull yourself together, Ms. Scott," Walter lectured.

"Wow, it really is you. That is such a Mr. Strickler thing to say. That's so funny." Darci laughed. "Hey, can you take me up for a flight?" she asked.

"Darci!" Toby exclaimed, horrified.

"No," Walter replied coldly. "Flying is for emergencies only; the risk is too high."

"Awww," Darci pouted, disappointed while Toby let out a relieved sigh.

"You can ride on AAARRRGGHH!," the Krubera pointed out to Darci.

"Yeah, I know, and it's the best thing ever!" Darci grinned, coming up to AAARRRGGHH! and scratching him behind the ears. "Who's a good troll? Who's the nicest, sweetest thing?"

"Hehehehe," AAARRRGGHH! grinned happily. "I am."

"Exactly!" Darci smiled.

Walter rolled his eyes.

"Well, I believe I'm done here." Walter turned around and started to walk away. He'd gone quite a distance before he heard something large rumbling up behind him. It was AAARRRGGHH!.

Walter noted that Toby and Darci weren't with the other troll. He looked up at AAARRRGGHH!. "You wanted to ask something?"

AAARRRGGHH! looked pointedly at Walter. "Blood rush," he said.

Walter hissed annoyed. "Blood rush" was indeed the term trolls used for the state of mind they could enter during battle. It was a place where all rhyme or reason vanished, and all that remained was the singular urge to kill and destroy. It was a trait more pronounced in some trolls than others, but all had it in some capacity.

"Yes, it's a natural state for a troll," Walter bit back.

AAARRRGGHH! nodded. "I know," he assured. "I… used to use the machines in Trollmarket, the training machines," he informed. "But, machines powered by Heartstone and Heartstone gone."

Walter glanced at AAARRRGGHH! with a frown. "You're repressing your urges," he surmised. AAARRRGGHH! nodded.

"Can't fight with wingman. Wingman would get hurt," AAARRRGGHH! said. "Will not lose myself." He shook his head.

"Well, you have to do something," Walter pointed out.

"I know." AAARRRGGHH! nodded then looked at Walter. "You troll," he pointed out. "You can be hit."

"Are you suggesting we help each other?" Walter asked. "Fight one another to get this under control?" he asked.

AAARRRGGHH! nodded. "No other trolls."

Walter gave in. "It would be very beneficial for both of us and address a major problem in both our cases," he admitted. "I believe it would also be decent training. Alright, fine." He looked up at AAARRRGGHH!. "Meet me at the training grounds in Trollmarket tomorrow night. We'll fight then."

AAARRRGGHH! sighed, relieved. "Thank you," he said.

"Don't thank me. I am only agreeing because it will benefit me as well." Walter said. "Being forced to remain a troll all the time – it truly does come with a lot of unwanted side effects," he muttered, annoyed and crossed his arms.

AAARRRGGHH! gave Walter a questioning look.

"Oh, never mind. How would you even know…" Walter groaned, not finishing his sentence. "Be there at one A.M. tomorrow night, and don't be late," he muttered.

With a single jump, Walter grabbed on to a balcony just above him and used it to climb up the building. AAARRRGGHH! stared after him, only turning away when the changeling disappeared.

The Krubera left to meet up with Toby and Darci again.


	8. Friendly Fight?

Walter eyed the gigantic troll in front of him. The Krubera circled the Trollmarket fighting arena. There were two major differences about Trollmarket now that everyone was gone. Without the power of the Heartstone, it was dark, and it was frigidly cold – much too cold for a human.

Lit torches gave off enough light for Walter and AAARRRGGHH! to see by, but the darkness still enveloped over half of the arena. But lack of light wasn't a real problem. AAARRRGGHH! and Walter's troll eyes were designed for darkness.

Walter took off his cape and bladed collar, dropping it to one side. He stretched his exposed wings, and then folded them up, taking a few steps toward AAARRRGGHH!. "I suggest you satisfy your urges now; we won't be able to do this again for some time."

"No worries," AAARRRGGHH! replied.

This was the fifth or sixth time they'd done this, and AAARRRGGHH! had no inhibitions about going all out. In fact, he might even have enjoyed beating on the troll that threatened him and his friends only a short while ago.

This was their last time for a while. Tomorrow, Walter and Barbara would leave to begin their journey, heading for Europe, cradle stone in tow. The hospital granted Barbara's request for a one-year leave of absence. Walter intended for them to use that time as efficiently as possible.

"You not hold back too," AAARRRGGHH! insisted. "Not hurt Jim's mom."

"Oh, I'll be fine," Walter brushed him off. "I'll be out making myself useful. You're the one who'll be cooped up here, " Walter said. "Besides, if you think I'd ever hurt Barbara you really are an idiot."

AAARRRGGHH! snorted.

Walter beckoned the other troll to make the first move. "Come then."

With a thunderous stomp, AAARRRGGHH! roared and charged Walter on all fours. The changeling leapt up into the air, landing behind AAARRRGGHH!. The Krubera quickly changed direction and lunged for Walter with a stony fist. Walter grabbed the oncoming punch and twisted around, only to collide with AAARRRGGHH!'s other fist.

Walter flew backward, landing deftly on his feet. With a roar, he jumped back into the fight.

It was hard to describe these fights they had. It was a necessity for both trolls, however, the line between friendly fight and cold-blooded brawl was one that often blurred.

It was normal for trolls to fight each other or play games that involved mostly fighting. They would laugh happily as they beat each other up, but rarely would they get hurt, and their mood was always good.

That was another difference between ordinary trolls and changelings. Changelings didn't fight for fun. They only knew how to fight with viciousness. When they had to fight amongst themselves it was never for fun. It was brutal. Walt didn't even know how to fight for fun; he'd only ever fought for survival.

He jumped over AAARRRGGHH!, landing on the big troll's back and grabbing onto his neck as AAARRRGGHH! roared. The Krubera grabbed Walter and threw him into a wall.

The changeling slid to the ground.

AAARRRGGHH! stormed toward Walter with a roar.

Walter's glowing eyes shot opened as the blood rush took him. He darted out from under AAARRRGGHH!'s onslaught as the other troll's fist hammered into the wall, shaking the entire arena.  
Walter was glad Barbara would never have to see this. Walter didn't even know how he would explain it if she were to witness such a brutal fight. AAARRRGGHH! likely felt the same way about Toby.

AAARRRGGHH! frowned, looking around for the changeling. Walter dove down from above, aimed straight for the other troll's unprotected face.

AAARRRGGHH! saw him and snatched him out of the air, using Walter's speed to send him ploughing into the floor where he rolled to a stop, groaning.

AAARRRGGHH! huffed. "Get up. Know tricks. You are not done."

"Heh." Walter smirked from the floor. "In this regard, you're smarter than Jim."

"I know what trolls capable of," AAARRRGGHH! pointed out. "You are not done."

Walter growled and leapt up, charging at AAARRRGGHH! eyes afire, fangs bared. AAARRRGGHH! roared, ready to fight again.

 

* * *

 

 

Walter sat with his back against the wall. He'd replaced his cape and was staring toward the great empty hall.

This fight was particularly vicious, but that was purposeful. He wanted to burn through every shred of his instincts. Hopefully they wouldn't bother him on the coming journey.

AAARRRGGHH! lay next to him, resting his head in his arms. He looked suitably tired too.

It was funny, how a creature, so vicious moments ago could look this peaceful now. Then again, Walter wasn't one to be fooled by appearances. Deceit - it was part of being a changeling. Not anymore though; he couldn't hide his trollish behavior.

"You okay?" AAARRRGGHH! asked.

Walter snorted. "You don't have to pretend you care," he bit back.

"I don't care," AAARRRGGHH! replied evenly. "Jim's mom…"

"I'm not going to let anything happen to her," Walter snapped. "How could I? She's all I have left."

"Huh?" AAARRRGGHH! grunted, confused.

"You really are an idiot," Walter muttered. "The Janus Order is gone. All the changelings are gone. My human life is gone. My work, both as a changeling and as a human – it's all gone." He took a deep breath. "I've lost everything – my whole life… except her. And I promised I would never leave her, so I won't."

AAARRRGGHH!'s eyes reflected sympathy.

"Don't give me that," Walter sneered. "You hated changelings too. 'Impure', that's what your kind calls us, isn't it?" he asked. "You are only here now because you need me. And that's fair. So, don't pretend you care what happens to me."

AAARRRGGHH! looked away. "I suppose… I didn't ask to become Gum-gum. You didn't ask to become changeling. Sad."

"Yes, well, war is filled with misery. That doesn't ever change, does it?" Walter asked. "I've seen so many wars... troll and human alike. I have yet to see anything good come of them."

"Hmmm…" AAARRRGGHH! rumbled, eyes closed in thought.

"Pfft," Walter looked away. "Maybe 'impure' isn't such a bad term for us though. Maybe… it's entirely accurate," he mused.

AAARRRGGHH! glanced at him, inquisitively.

"Just look at you; you're a troll, but you can't possibly understand because you've never –" Walter growled, frustrated. "I've lived as a human for far too long. I realize that now… I can't change what I am. I may look a troll, but that's not entirely true." He hung his head. "Not really troll… and not really human. I had centuries to prepare for this – to get accustomed to the needs of either form, yet when it became too much to be a troll, I simply changed back into a human. Young Atlas, however…"

AAARRRGGHH! tensed. "Jim not change…" he said. "Jim stuck."

Walter leaned back against the wall and shook his head. "Young Atlas made a choice. I tried to stop him. If you ask me, Merlin was no better than Morgana or Gunmar when he forced that decision on Jim. Changing a being so drastically… making them into a weapon – a tool of war." Walter sighed. "I wanted Jim to become strong – strong enough to survive. To do that, I decided to be as hard on him as I had to. I wanted to burn away his weakness, but I would never have forced such a change upon him. The truth is, being a changeling is something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Jim's situation is even worse. It's the last thing I would have wanted for him."

"You care," AAARRRGGHH! remarked.

"Humans are such strange beings," Walter commented. "They are so weak. Their lives are so short, and yet they can be so self-sacrificing. So… pure of heart. It was strange to see such a person for myself. He's… just like his mother."

AAARRRGGHH! nodded. "Is strange," he admitted. "Humans… nice."

Walter smirked, amused. "Well, some of them can be quite nasty, even brutal. They can be far worse than trolls. But, a few of them – even if they are rare – can be rather nice," he admitted. "Those few are nothing like trolls."

"You want to be with them," AAARRRGGHH! summarized.

Walter looked at AAARRRGGHH! wide-eyed.

"You want to live with humans, not trolls," AAARRRGGHH! said again.

Walter hissed, angry with himself for letting someone else see his secret wishes. "It doesn't really matter what I want, does it?" Walter snapped. "It's not even a possibility! I can't live around humans anymore! It's over!"

"Oh." AAARRRGGHH! looked away.

Walter groaned and rubbed his face. "Why am I even talking about this with you?" he asked.

"Because… no one else," AAARRRGGHH! pointed out. "Also why we fight each other – no one else."

"Heh, now that's an astute observation," Walter quipped. He took a deep breath and let it out again before continuing. "I'm going to protect her… It's the only thing I can do now. It's… all I have left."

AAARRRGGHH! stared at Walter thoughtfully. "If you could be human… You want to?" he asked.

Walter's eyes widened, and he glanced down at the arena floor. "I… I'm not sure," he admitted. "That's a big question."

AAARRRGGHH! frowned.

"Ah, what does it matter? You can't just turn a troll into a human," Walter dismissed.

"Blinky did," AAARRRGGHH! pointed out.

Walter froze. "That – that's true! How did he do that?" he asked.

AAARRRGGHH! shrugged. "Don't know."

Walter stood up. "Well, then Blinky must know, mustn't he?" He pulled out his cell.

"Blinky's transformation accident," AAARRRGGHH! admitted.

"Well, it's still an accident that proves it is a possibility," Walter insisted. "Merlin is with them. If anyone ought to know, he –" Walter stopped and stared at the phone. Jim's transformation was permanent – forever. Would Merlin changing a troll into a human… also be forever?

How could he protect Barbara without a troll's strength? Aside from that, his human appearance was aging. How many years would he have? Could he live with being stuck as a human, never able to return to his true form? More questions flew through Walter's mind, so many he couldn't keep track of them all. He shook his head and turned off the phone, tucking it back into his pocket.

"Strickler?" AAARRRGGHH! asked.

"Barbara and I have a mission, starting tomorrow. We should not be distracted. I appreciate you brining the possibility to my attention," he said to AAARRRGGHH!. "I should go; I need to prepare for our journey tomorrow."

AAARRRGGHH! nodded. "See you," he said as the green troll vanished into the darkness that pervaded the deserted remains of Trollmarket.


	9. Mission start

It was quite the little gathering at the Gyre's station as Walter and Barbara prepared to leave.

Toby, AAARRRGGHH!, and Darci were there to see them off as well as Toby's Nana and the Nuñezs. Walter didn't know how to feel about the group's presence, but Barbara seemed happy to see them. Now, she was on a call with Jim.

"Be careful, Mom," said Jim.

"It'll be fine, Jim. Finally, I get to go on a mission too! I am so ready for this." Barbara replied.

"Seriously, Mom, you have no idea what's out there. I'm surprised at all the weird stuff that keeps popping up. "

"I can handle myself," Barbara assured him.

"Just… don't rush into anything," Jim said. "Think before you act."

"I feel like you, of all people, shouldn't lecture me about that," Barbara said. "It'll be fine, Jim. It's just a little trip."

Jim sighed. "Is Strickler there? Can I have a word with him?"

"Sure." Barbara handed Walter the phone. "Jim wants a word."

Walter took the phone. "Young Atlas," he greeted.

"You better make sure she doesn't get hurt," Jim immediately instructed.

"I swear to you, on my life and honor. No harm shall come to Barbara Lake during this endeavor," Walter replied.

"I'm going to hold you to that. If something happens to her I will assume it's your fault," Jim growled. "When she tries to do something stupid, you better stop her."

Walter smirked. "I'm glad you realize I'm not the one constantly taking unnecessary risks. That one falls squarely on you two. In fact, the both of you seem to share the compulsion to dive into dangerous situations unprepared."

"So, I assume you've thought of everything?" Jim asked.

"Of course, I have," Walter retorted. "I've even updated Barbara's cellphone service. International calls and texts are now included."

"Wow! Really?" Jim asked.

"Yes. I don't think she would like it if she couldn't speak with you," Walter said. "I swear to you, Young Atlas, I will protect her. And you will keep sending her messages – at least twice a day."

"Heh," Jim laughed nervously. "Alright then. That's all I needed to know. Thanks, Strickler... Walter," Jim corrected himself.

Walter couldn't help but be amused. He'd realized that what Jim called him depended on his mood. When Jim was mad at him, he called him "Strickler," but when he was pleased he called him "Walter." It was a convenient indicator.

"Can I have Mom back on the line?" Jim asked.

"Here she is." Walter handed the phone back to a smiling Barbara.

Now it was Toby's turn to step up to Walter, wagging a lecturing finger. "You better take good care of her. If I see one single scratch on Doctor L, I'll – I'll –" he stuttered. "I'll hit you over the head with my Warhammer!"

Walter looked at him, incredulous. "You are welcome to try. But, if you miss, I'll have to break your arm." He gave Toby a sadistic grin.

Toby's face greyed, but he gathered his courage and stood up straight. "I'm serious! Jim asked me to protect Arcadia and his mom! So… you better not let anything happen to her!"

"Toby-pie!" Nana scolded. "Such temper!"

"Yeah. It's really cool," Darci grinned. "Don't worry, Mr. Strickler. TP, AAARRRGGHH! and I have this city under control."

"And I'll make sure my little Toby-pie and his pretty little girlfriend eat properly." Nana cheered happily.

"Nana!" Toby exclaimed.

"Well, that's great to hear." Barbara joined the conversation, now off the phone with Jim.

"The city will be safe," Ophelia Nuñez said. "You have my word on that."

Toby laughed nervously. "Sure is nice when the Mayor has your back. Man, we should have told our parents way sooner than we did." He sighed.

"I'm glad you know that now," Barbara patted Toby on the shoulder then turned to Walter. "Well then, shall we be going?" she asked.

Walter opened the Gyre door for Barbara. "After you," he motioned for her to get in and boarded after her.

"You had better take off your glasses," Walter told Barbara as he started up the machine.

Barbara sighed. "Again?" she asked but did as she was told.

The sphere spun so fast sparks flew everywhere, then they shot forward. Within a few seconds, Trollmarket was far behind them.

Barbara sat wide-eyed as the wind smashed against her face for a moment before a magical shield settled in place over the vehicle, blocking out the heavy draft.

Walter set the auto-nav and turned to face Barbara. "We'll be at our first destination in an hour and fifty minutes."

"That's… insanely fast," Barbara said.

"These tunnels were all built long before humans discovered how to construct train tracks, let alone build or fly airplanes," said Walter. "A mix of magic and technology makes this network possible. Now," he pulled out a notebook and flipped to the first page. "Let's go through the plan again," he instructed. "We'll be arriving in Norway; your name is Elisabeth Williams, and you're a dual citizen of America and England who gained British citizenship when she married a native Brit by the name of Charles Williams." He handed Barbara her fake passport.

Barbara flipped the passport open and looked down at the photo of herself. Her fake name and personal information were printed next to it.

"I've got it," Barbara assured.

"When we arrive, it will be night time in Norway, allowing us the chance to move around freely. We'll be out in the middle of nowhere, so we'll have to walk quite a way to get to our first destination," Walter said. "There, you will pick up a car. I've already reserved and paid for it in Elisabeth Williams' name. All you need to do is pick it up, come back, and pick me up. After that we'll head to a city called Bergen which will have our first drop off."

"Sounds easy enough." Barbara nodded.

"I'm glad you feel that way. There's no way of knowing what kind of trouble we may encounter." Walter's tone was more serious than usual. "Don't forget – among humans we are illegals. If it's discovered we're dropping off children, we'll look extremely suspicious. Additionally, there are trolls and other dark creatures who won't appreciate visitors on their turf."

"There are… trolls in Norway?" Barbara asked.

"Of course, there are trolls in Norway! It's practically the motherland of trolls – their place of origin," Walter said. "The trolls here tend to be far more tribalistic than the ones from Trollmarket. That was an unusual place that allowed several different species of trolls to live together. In Norway, each species will prefer to stay with their own group, even going so far as to kill trolls from other tribes who trespass. And… well, if they discover me… I might not be able to change anymore, but I am still a changeling. I don't belong to a tribe that can protect me."

"That doesn't sound good," Barbara admitted.

"We'll do our best to stay far away from them," said Walter. "Hopefully, we won't meet any of them, but it is better to be careful all the same."

Barbara nodded.

The Gyre stopped. Everything around it was bathed in darkness. Barbara couldn't see a single thing as she stepped out. She fished out a flashlight and turned it on. All around towered stony walls.

Walter didn't need a flashlight. His eyes glowed as he surveyed their stopping point. "We seem to be alone. Good," he observed. "That is fortunate. Better not to take any chances." He beckoned Barbara to follow him. "Come on."

Together, they trekked through the dark caves, crawling over several stone barriers. Barbara had to rely on Walter to pull her up and over several large obstacles. Once, she had to cling to his back as he crawled up a steep cliff.

Quite some time later, Barbara stumbled, and Walter shot a concerned glance back at her. "Do you need to rest?"

"Just… Just give me a minute," She said, taking a seat on a nearby rock. "We… can't be too far from the surface now, can we?"

"I don't know," Walter replied. "I'm not accustomed to using Gyre's stations," he admitted. "The stations belong to trolls. They don't typically allow changelings to use them."

"Then how did changelings get around?" Barbara asked.

Walter smirked. "You forget. Changelings blended in with humans. We could use human transports. We'd just take the plane." Walter stopped short, his eyes fixed on something hidden in the darkness.

"What is it?" Barbara asked.

"Sssh," Walter hissed.

Barbara fell silent. She didn't hear anything except the wind, whistling through the tunnel.

Walter's eyes darted from one spot to another and he reached for his knives. "We are not alone," he breathed.

"What?" Barbara asked just as the stone she sat on shifted. Barbara screamed and jumped up, eyes on the stone. Had she just been sitting on a troll? "I... I'm terribly sorry; I didn't mean to sit on you," she offered the troll.

The stone rose from the ground. It had no legs, no face. Barbara's eyes widened as it continued to rise higher. She hadn't sat on a troll's body, but on its hand.

Barbara gaped, stumbling backward to see the gigantic figure tower over them. It's large, glowing eyes blinked open and it roared so loudly the sound of it shook the entire cave.

"Breaktime's over!" Walter shouted. "Glasses! Now!"

Barbara didn't need to be told twice. She pulled off her glasses and Walter grabbed her. They took off into the air, racing through the tunnels as the other troll's bellowing followed them. Each one of the giant's footsteps made the earth rumble. The sound rang in Barbara's ears as she clung to Walter.

The commotion didn't go unnoticed and more hands shot out to grab them, accompanied by angry growls and roars. The flailing limbs were so thick Walter had to find another tunnel to fly down.

"Why are they so big? " Barbara shouted over the noise as she held on.

"That's just the kind of trolls they are," Walter yelled back, annoyed at the forced detour. He flew towards the ceiling only to come face to face with a pair of huge, yellow eyes.

Barbara screamed, and Walter summersaulted backward, avoiding another grabbing hand.

"In fact, they aren't really that big," Walter offered. "There are trolls much bigger than this."

"What?!" Barbara shouted. "Are you serious?!"

"Quite," Walter said. "Hang on. We're going up."

Walter flew erratically, avoiding the giants' hands. He whisked through a small tunnel only to be faced with another tight space.

Barbara strained to see. The light whisper of a breeze brushed by. "Walt!" She pointed up. "The exit!"

Walter followed her pointing finger. Right above them the stars shone brightly through a hole in the ceiling. Walter bolted for the opening. They shot out into the open as half a dozen hands grabbed for them and missed.

Barbara stared at the scene. She'd thought they were far underground, but now she realized they'd come out on top of a mountain. Far beneath them stretched a vast forest, and on the horizon stood even more mountains.

"It's alright," Walter assured. "We're going down."

Barbara nodded as Walter held her close, gliding down to the forest and landing lightly on his feet. He set Barbara down and she sucked in a relieved breath.

"Well, I guess we won't be taking that Gyre's station again," Barbara commented.

"That does seem unlikely," Walter agreed. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Barbara assured as she pulled out her glasses and put them on. "Besides, Jim deals with these things all the time. I can too," she declared, but for a moment she didn't seem quite so sure. "Let's… get out of here and find a road." She started off.

"Barbara, you're walking the wrong way." Walter held back a chuckle.

Barbara crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. "And how do you know?" she asked.

With a smug grin Walter held up a GPS. "We need to go Northeast."

"Oh," Barbara muttered. "Well, lead the way then," she said, falling in step next to him.

"As you wish, my lady."

Under cover of night, they set out on the first step of their long journey.


	10. Bergen

Barbara made the last part of the trip to Bergen alone. She was hesitant at first, but soon realized plenty of other people were around. When the sun began to rise, Walter retreated into the shadow of the forest. He followed her as far as he could, but eventually, the places for him to hide dwindled and he had to remain behind.

She remembered clearly what he told her earlier. "I already rented and paid for the car in the name of Elisabeth Williams. All you have to do is pick it up."

That seemed easy enough. Walt really had thought of everything. With the help of the GPS in Barbara's hand it was relatively easy to find the rental agency.

Soon, she walked into a slightly worn-down, but clean building with multiple cars standing out front. All the signs were in a language Barbara couldn't read. She cleared her throat and approached the front desk. A burly man with a fussy, blonde beard and matching hair stared back at her with clear, blue eyes. Barbara smiled at him.

"God morgen. Kan jeg hjelpe deg?" the man asked.

Barbara blinked at the sound of the foreign language. "Uhh…" She hesitated. "I'm here for a car," she said. "Caaaar," she raised her voice and drew out the word, hands held up in the air to mimic steering a vehicle.

The employee lifted an eyebrow. "You could just say you don't speak Norwegian, Ms."

"Oh." Barbara blinked. "You speak English," she muttered sheepishly.

"Ma'am, this is a car rental agency. I deal with tourists all the time," the man pointed out in perfect English, plus a Norwegian accent.

"I'm so sorry!" Barbara apologized. "I didn't mean to offend you! I… Oh dear. I'm really, really sorry."

The man gave a hearty laugh. "Hahahahaha! It's all right, ma'am. It takes much more than that to offend me," he said in genuine amusement, "So, you need a car. Have you already made a reservation?" he asked.

"Ah yes, Elisabeth Williams," Barbara said. "Oh, and here's my identification." She held out her fake passport.

The man took it and flipped it open. He glanced at the passport, then at Barbara. She hid her fraying nerves as she wondered if he would figure out her ruse.

"Yes. I see you have a minivan reserved. And… Great. You already paid," he commented. "Looks good. Come this way, please."

Barbara followed him out behind the building. Vehicles were lined up in neat rows. When they came to a line of minivans, they stopped, and the rental agent took Barbara to a shiny white Volkswagen.

Barbara noted the tinted windows and how their mirrored surface made it impossible for anyone to get a look inside. They blocked out the sunlight decently as well. Walt really had thought of everything.

"She's in very good condition," the agent said as he opened the door for Barbara to look inside. "Air-conditioning, GPS, and it gets good gas-mileage."

Barbara checked the back seats, then she noticed the gear shift jutting up beside the driver's seat and her face fell. "It… isn't an automatic?"

"No, not this one," the man replied. "We don't have a lot of cars with automatic transmissions, but if you want, I'm sure we can find one."

"No, that's fine," Barbara thanked the man. She knew Walter took great care in choosing this vehicle. "It's just been a while since I've driven stick," she admitted.

"Are you sure?" the man asked.

"Yes." Barbara nodded. "I'm sure, this will do fine."

"Well, she is a nice car – good for city traffic and highway driving. It has good space too." He held out the keys to Barbara. "Well, here you go then."

Barbara eagerly took the keys. "Thank you. I should be going." She crawled into the driver's seat and fastened her seatbelt. She revved up the van and started to hit the gas. "Right…" she reminded herself, "Stick-shift."

Barbara managed to get out without bumping into anything – a good sign. Before she pulled out onto the road she looked around. There were a lot of things to get used to here, all the people biking everywhere for instance. Jim used to bike to school, but here it looked like adults biked to work, or the store, or wherever they needed to go. There were people with their toddlers strapped to their bikes. She couldn't imagine hauling around a child that age on a bicycle.

She pulled out onto the road, headed back toward Walter. When she reached his hiding place, she opened the backseat door and he clambered in, covered in his giant cloak. He held the cradle stone protectively, along with the few items they'd brought with them.

"So far, so good," Barbara said.

"I trust there wasn't any trouble," Walter said from the back, cloak still draped around his head.

"No, not at all," Barbara assured. "This is actually a lot of fun." She grinned. "Look at us – out on a secret mission."

Walter sighed. "Well, I suppose it's a good thing one of us is having fun," he commented dryly. "Our first drop-off is in Bergen, the city you just came from, so finding it shouldn't prove difficult."

"I haven't even had breakfast yet. I need to taste some of the Norwegian cuisine!" Barbara exclaimed.

"Be careful with what you pick. Pickled herring is considered a delicacy in this country." Walter leaned back in the seat.

"Seriously?" Barbara wrinkled her nose.

"Yes, and to eat it correctly you need to have a raw egg yolk on top," said Walter. "It's one of the few human foods trolls also enjoy eating."

"Uh, no offense, but I think I'll skip that one," Barbara said. "At the very least, I should try some meatballs. They're like the national food here, right?"

"No." Walter rolled his eyes. "That's Sweden. But I'd imagine you can find them here just as easily. Sweden will be our next destination."

Barbara grinned. Walter shook his head at her giddiness. Like he'd said, at least one of them was happy.


	11. Mothers instinct

The daylight hours dragged by for Walter – stuck in the car. Even if it wasn't for the sun's burning rays, he couldn't go out, lest he be seen.

The back seats were folded down, so he sprawled out on top of them. The tinted windows blocked out much of the sun, and the prying eyes of other drivers and passing pedestrians.

Before Barbara left this morning, she'd realized Walter would have to remain in the car. She'd been hesitant to go out sightseeing, but Walter insisted she go.

Even though he didn't begrudge Barbara the opportunity to see what Europe had to offer, he itched to be able to get out of the car. Night couldn't come soon enough.

When the sun began to set, Barbara returned, carrying a Chinese take-out box and a bag filled with her purchases.

Barbara crawled into the vehicle through the trunk hatch. She sat on the floor, legs crossed before shutting the back door. Walter eyed the take-out box. "And here I thought you were going to try the local cuisine," he commented.

"I did," Barbara replied. "And it was very exciting… perhaps a bit too exciting. I admit it – I wanted something I actually recognized right now." She popped open the box and glanced up at Walter. "I… thought about getting you one too, but…"

"Don't worry about it. I couldn't eat it anyway, but thank you for the thought," Walter said.

"Are you going to be okay?" Barbara asked. "I mean, you haven't eaten since we left."

Walter waved her off. "Trolls don't need to eat as often as humans. I'll make sure to cover my own needs," he assured.

"Alright. I'll hold you to that." She fished a plastic bag out of her purchases. "So, I couldn't get you food, but I did get you this." Barbara handed him the bag.

Walter withdrew the contents. Five different books, large ones, all fairly worn. He could only guess Barbara found them at a second-hand store or some similar establishment.

"You've been sitting in here all day with nothing to occupy you. The least I could do was give you something to pass the time."

"Oh." Walter smiled lightly as he examined the books. "Ah, 'The Rise and Fall of Rome.' Fascinating history." He nodded as he looked at another title. "'Moby Dick'?" he questioned.

"I picked up a bit of everything." Barbara shrugged. "Well, from what I could find in English. Most of the books were in Norwegian," she sighed.

"I actually quite like this book," Walt admitted looking at the front cover of "Moby Dick." "A man's futile obsession leading him to madness… I feel like there's a warning in there somewhere."

Barbara smirked.

"Thank you. These will be quite helpful in keeping me occupied," he said.

"When you've finished them, and we have to move on foot again, we can leave them for someone else to find." Barbara smiled.

"Make sure to get some sleep tonight," Walter instructed, tucking the books away. "I'll make the deliveries. You be sure you're rested for tomorrow."

"Oh." Barbara blinked. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked. "Going out into the city."

"I won't let anyone see me," Walter assured. "I can move at a far higher speed than a human, and my senses are much keener. And, as I said, you need to be rested for tomorrow. We'll be heading for the next city."

"Well, I must admit I am exhausted." Barbara yawned, covering her mouth with her hand.

"No wonder. You've been up all night and all day," Walter pointed out. "I suggest you try to sleep once you've finished eating. I need to wait a few more hours before beginning the deliveries."

Barbara nodded, drowsiness starting to overtake her. She climbed up onto the folded-down seats and lay down, covering herself with a blanket. The seats were quite comfortable – soft and inviting to her tired body.

It was a strange place to sleep, in the back of a car, but Barbara was so exhausted she thought nothing of it. Within minutes she was asleep.

Some hours later, a yellow light started her awake. Barbara looked outside to see Walter, his cloak draped around his shoulders, holding the cradle stone. He spoke in a strange language. She'd heard him speak this way before – when he and she were taken by Gunmar to activate the staff of Avalon. She listened to him pronounce the trollish words. Oddly, they sounded rather poetic when he said them.

The cradle stone glowed, and a single ball of light escaped it, transforming into a baby girl. Walter carefully took hold of her. Barbara couldn't see his face. The baby started to cry.

With a startled yelp, Walter jumped, nearly dropping the girl. He shushed her, but to no avail. His insistent voice only made her cry louder. Barbara watched Walter tense in panic.

She smirked at him and got out of the van. With a yawn she went over to Walter and took the baby girl from the bewildered troll.

"Sssh, it's alright," Barbara assured, bouncing her up and down gently. When that didn't help she asked, "What's wrong, sweetie?" She checked the baby's diaper. "Dry," she observed. "Need a little burp?" she asked, putting the baby over her shoulder and giving her a pat on the back.

Walter watched Barbara as she took over like this was the most natural thing in the world. The baby was still crying, even if she wasn't as loud as before. Walter's ears protested the piercing wails.

"No. That doesn't seem to be it. Walt, did you bring a bottle?" Barbara asked.

"What?" Walter asked, ears ringing.

"A baby bottle and formula – I think she's hungry," Barbara replied.

Walter stared at her with a disbelieving expression.

"Huh. And here I thought you'd thought of everything." Barbara chuckled. "Okay. Just take her for a minute." Barbara handed the baby back to Walter.

"Wuargh!" Walter shrank away from the wailing infant, unsure of what to do.

"Don't be such a ninny!" Barbara exclaimed. "You need to hold her tighter, so she feels safe! And support her back!"

Walter swallowed nervously but did as he was told, holding the baby properly this time. Still she cried.

"Okay. Just hold her. I saw a convenience store around the corner. It should have bottles and formula," Barbara said. "At least… I hope it does."

"Barbara..." Walter tried to object. He was just about to beg her not to leave him but realized how pathetic that would sound.

"I won't be a moment," Barbara said, hopping in the van and disappearing down the road.

No more than ten minutes later Barbara returned. Walter felt like an eternity had passed. He thought his torture was over, but then Barbara had to warm up the bottle, which took more time. His poor ears screamed for relief from the constant crying, and his frayed nerves made him feel like he was losing his mind.

He nearly toppled over in relief as Barbara took the baby and gave her the full bottle. She firmly instructed Walter on the correct feeding process. He eyed her, seeing she expected him to do this in the future. The thought of even attempting such a thing sent thick dread through him.

"Don't pat them too hard," Barbara said as she laid the baby over her shoulder. "You have to be patient and wait for that burp. It's important."

The girl burped – at last – now quiet and satisfied.

Walter grimaced at the baby. Human babies were disgusting creatures, but as he watched Barbara, he saw her eyes filled only with love for the little thing in her arms.

"They're so cute when they're small, aren't they?" she asked.

Walter elected not to comment on that. He was sure an honest answer would only get him into trouble.

Barbara sniffed as she held the little one, looking lovingly into the baby's face.

"Barbara," Walter stepped forward to take the child. "You need to give her to me."

"I know. I just –" Barbara brushed a bit of hair off the baby's forehead. "Please, be safe," she said, bowing down and kissing the infant's forehead before offering her back to Walter. Barbara closed her eyes tightly and Walter could see tears trying to escape.

"Barbara…" Walter laid a hand on her shoulder. "This is for the best. There are a thousand more like her in that stone. You can't keep them all."

"I know." Barbara took off her glasses and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Make sure she arrives safely."

"I swear to you, no harm will come to her," Walter assured. "Go back to sleep. Tomorrow is another day."

Barbara went back to the van. She glanced back over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of Walter as he disappeared into the night, the baby held tightly in his arms.

This… was a lot harder than she thought it would be. She only hoped the next drop-off would be easier.


	12. The gift

Jim smiled at his phone as he swiped through his mom's countless selfies. Each picture was from a different place. Some she'd taken in cities, others in small villages, and still more in the middle of the forest or out in a field.

Sometimes Jim could spot Walter in the background. In some cases, it looked like his mother tried to catch the changeling in the picture on purpose. At times, Jim could tell Walter knew it as he glared at the camera, dismay on his face.

"She sure seems happy," Claire commented, looking over Jim's shoulder.

"Yeah. Mom always wanted to see more of the world." Jim looked through more pictures. "I'm happy for her; she deserves this. For as long as I can remember, the only two things she had time for were working and looking after me." Jim blinked in surprise as the phone vibrated. Another picture popped up in his messages. This one was of his mom eating a French croissant. The message explained she was in a small village just inside the border of France.

Jim chuckled. She really did seem happy. With crumbs dotting her mouth, she grinned at the camera.

"Let's send a picture back!" Claire cheered as she leaned her head on Jim's shoulder, so their faces were right next to each other.

Jim grinned as he held up the phone. When the camera was correctly positioned, he and Claire yelled, "Say cheese!"

 

* * *

 

 

Barbara checked her phone. She smiled warmly at the picture Jim sent back to her. He and Claire looked happy. It was always a relief to get a picture like this. Every time Barbara received one it put her mind at ease. Her son's transformation wasn't easy for him, not to mention the move to New Jersey, among other things. She was glad to know he was doing well, despite everything.

She was still looking at the picture when she returned to the car later.

This was their fourth rental, a dark blue BMW minivan. All the rentals were minivans – purposefully.

Barbara strolled up to the van and got into the driver's seat. She looked back at Walter, sitting quietly in the back, his nose buried in one of the books she'd gotten him. "Okay. I dropped off another baby and got my lunch. We're ready to go."

"I took the liberty of putting the coordinates into the GPS," Walter said, not even looking up from his book.

"Okay then." Barbara didn't ask where they were going as she started up the car.

She'd driven more on this trip than she could ever remember driving in such a short space of time. Albeit, the journeys were scenic and often short. A few times they'd used a Gyre to skip countries – Walter had said something about trying to make it more difficult for anyone to spot a pattern in their behavior.

Barbara wasn't worried. It would be difficult to link a sudden influx of babies delivered to orphanages in England with a slew of them showing up in Australia only a day later. A secret, underground network of magic tunnels was such a useful thing.

Barbara hummed to herself as she drove through the French countryside, breathing deeply as she took in the scenery. As the sun began to set she was puzzled to see they hadn't reached a city yet.

"Walt?" she called back over her shoulder. "Which city are we going to tonight? Is it far?"

"We won't reach a city tonight," Walter replied.

"What?" Barbara asked. "But what about the drop-off?"

"There won't be a drop-off tonight either," Walter said.

Barbara was confused. This didn't make sense. There was always at least one drop-off. Walter planned this out very efficiently. How could there be a night with no drop-off?

"Is something wrong?" Barbara asked. "Walter, please don't tell me we're running from trouble. I swear, if you've been keeping something from me –"

"You wanted to see a vineyard, didn't you?" Walter stopped her midsentence. "I just thought you deserved a break. If we make it to the vineyard tonight, you can have a look at it. Then tomorrow morning, you can go on a tour, taste some of the wine, and get some rest."

"I can't drink and drive!" Barbara exclaimed.

"Which is why I suggested that you rest tomorrow," Walter countered. He looked at her in the rearview mirror, his eyes shining a soft yellow. "This place has a most excellent restaurant, with wines specifically selected to complement the food. You can't pass up this opportunity, Barbara."

"Awww." Barbara smiled, looking back at him in the mirror. "That's so sweet. You really thought of me."

Walter looked away sheepishly. Barbara chuckled at him.

"I… already reserved table and a tour for your current alias, Sarah Gilbert," Walter said. "And I paid for it in advance."

"Walt…" Barbara breathed. "That's… that's too much. I don't even know what to say," she said, feeling overwhelmed.

You don't need to say anything. You deserve it," Walter replied.

"Thank you." She sighed and relaxed in her seat, smiling, but then her smile faltered.

"Are you alright?" Walter asked.

"It's so nice of you," Barbara replied. "I just… I wish you could come with me. I – what I meant is –"

Walter let out a deep sigh. "I wish that too…"

"I feel awful that you're stuck in an old car all day when there are so many amazing things out there to see and do," she said.

"Don't worry, Barbara. I've already travelled the world. At my age, I've seen things most humans couldn't even comprehend. I don't have any particular urge to see these cities."

"I forget how old you are sometimes…" She turned her eyes back to the road. "But I still wish…" She sighed again.

"Please, try to have a good day tomorrow," Walter said.

"Alright." Barbara sped up as the speed limit changed. Everything she'd seen was so amazing, but it would all have been so much better if she could have seen it with Walter. She supposed she should keep his words in mind. This was not a vacation; it was a mission. They didn't have time to play tourists anyway... Still it was a shame. Really... really a shame.


	13. Favourite bit

As Barbara walked with the tour group everyone else complained about the weather. Dark grey clouds hovered, threatening rain, and delivering on that threat more than once during the tour, soaking the group. It wasn't the ideal day for a trip out to a vineyard, but Barbara was grateful for the clouds. They meant Walter wouldn't be cooped up in the van all day.

The group took a break and Barbara trekked back to the vehicle. She was encouraged to find Walter gone. At least he was taking the time to enjoy France a little. That thought made her feel better as she returned to the group, smiling up at the grey sky.

Due to a massive incoming rainstorm, the tour was cut short. Instead of finishing their round of the fields, the group retreated to the distillery. Inside, Barbara listened to the rain hammering down on the roof. The sound was oddly soothing.

She only half-listened to the guide as he explained the long history of the two hundred-year-old establishment. When he resorted to showing them some of the original wine barrels, she stopped paying attention altogether, wishing instead that Walter was here with her.

By the time lunch came, Barbara was starving. She sat down at her table, staring at the single plate.

Some of the other tourists gave her concerned looks.

"Are you here all alone?" an elderly woman at the next table over asked. She had an accent – not surprising. Most people here were from elsewhere in Europe. The accent sounded something close to German, but Barbara wasn't sure. She sighed. Walter would have known.

"Well, I…" Barbara hesitated. "My husband isn't crazy about wine, so he decided to do something else today," she lied.

"Sounds like a terrible husband," the woman said. "Not keeping his own wife company on such a trip."

"It's okay; it's not that bad," Barbara assured her. "In fact… he wanted to come," she admitted sadly, her eyes falling on the empty chair in front of her. "He just… he couldn't be here. He insisted I go without him."

"Oh, I see," the woman said with sympathy in her blue eyes. "Well, that's a shame. Why don't you come sit with us?" she invited, indicating the group of older men and women she was with.

"Oh, no. I couldn't intrude," Barbara objected.

"Meals like this are not meant to be eaten alone," the woman replied. "Come on. We don't bite." This earned a hearty chuckle from several others in the group. "My name's Mila."

Barbara gave in and with a wry smile moved her chair over to their table, taking her plate with her. "I'm… Sarah."

As it turned out, she was right. They were from Germany – a group of pensioners. They took a tour buss all the way out here just to visit the vineyard. Mila was a retired restaurant owner. Her husband Klaus sat beside her.

The group's company was pleasant and warm, and their witty conversation and amusing stories occupied Barbara's mind… until she glanced behind her at the now-empty table.

She sighed. This was the kind of place Walter would have enjoyed – the history, the fine wine. He would have told her story after story about French wine production – and they would have been far more interesting than that dull tour guide's. Then would come the terrible jokes and puns. He knew they were bad, but that made them even funnier.

Now that she thought about it, Walter hadn't told any of those jokes since he'd gotten stuck in his troll form. She missed that.

The food was exquisite, and the chocolate fudge cake on Barbara's plate melted on her tongue. She wished she could take one back for Walter, but he couldn't enjoy it anyway.

"I know that look," Mila said quietly. "You're worried about someone. Is it your husband?" she asked.

"In a way," Barbara admitted. "He… Well, he has a… condition."

"Oh dear. Is he sick?" Mila asked.

"No," Barbara replied. "He just – It's hard to explain."

"Well, whatever it is, I hope he'll be alright." Mila smiled. "You're such a nice woman. You deserve good things in your life."

Barbara smiled and glanced out the window. She fought to hide her surprise as she saw the unmistakable glow of two yellow eyes in the shadows beneath the trees. Almost as soon as she saw them, they disappeared.

Barbara got up from the table. "Please, excuse me," she said politely, then dashed out. She didn't even take the time to grab an umbrella as she rushed out into the rain. She was soaked before she reached the tree-line. Stumbling into the shadows, she called out, "Walt!"

"Barbara, seriously?" Walter asked from farther into the trees.

Barbara sighed in relief as he stepped out of the bushes. "Look at you. You're all wet. You're a doctor; you should know this is how people catch colds," he scolded.

"Actually, it's not being wet that gives people colds; it's forgetting to dry off. The water lowers your body temperature which weakens your immune system, increasing the likelihood of a viral infection," she summarized.

Walter shook his head, hiding an amused smirk. "What are you doing out here?"

"I was looking for you, obviously," Barbara crossed her arms. "You haven't been spying on me all day, have you?" she asked suspiciously.

"No. I just came back here. I wanted to make sure you were doing okay." Walter sighed. "You seem fine. You should get back."

Barbara looked up at him. "You know… I think I've had enough of that tour. I haven't seen all the fields yet. I think I'll go for a walk." She headed out towards the fields.

"What?" Walter asked.

"You could come with me if you wanted," Barbara offered. "It's up to you though." She kept walking, feigning indifference.

Walter hesitated, then ran after her, catching up quickly.

They followed an unconventional track, staying in the trees, but maintaining a decent view of the fields. Barbara smiled as Walter elaborated.

"It was, in fact, the Christian monks who preserved the art of wine-making in the sixteen-hundreds," Walter said, falling in step with Barbara. "They brought it with them from Israel as part of their religion; however, what they brought was mere water in comparison to what we have today. They truly innovated the process. Those monks loved the experimentation, the long nights… tasting their creations."

The last part earned a smirk from Barbara.

"You could say they were…. Expert Burgundy monks!" Walt smirked, clearly satisfied with his own bad joke.

Barbara couldn't help but laugh and shake her head.

"Wow! Look at that!" she gasped as she looked up. She ran ahead, stopping at the crest of a high hill with a view spanning the countless grape fields below. They'd walked farther than Barbara thought. "Walt, come look at this!"

"No, I'd better not," Walter protested.

"Why?" Barbara asked.

"If you can see those fields, anyone standing in them could look up and see us," Walter said.

Barbara glanced back at him. "Aren't you being just a little bit paranoid?" she asked.

"No," Walter said firmly.

"It's quite a way down. Even if someone saw us, we'd be blurry specks, now come on." She beckoned him out of the trees.

Walter hesitated, and then gave in. He stepped up next to Barbara and looked out over the countryside.

"Heh… that's funny," he commented.

"What is?" Barbara asked.

"Things change so fast over the years," he said. "Cities become unrecognizable. The world looks completely different now, but there are some things… that stay exactly the same. This… This place looks just as it did six hundred years ago."

"Wait… You were here six hundred years ago?" Barbara asked.

"Yes." Walter looked down at her. "Is that so surprising?"

"I… I suppose not," Barbara admitted. "I mean… Now that's something to take in." She sat down, folding her legs under her and patting the empty spot next to her, inviting Walter to sit too.

He hesitated, but only for a moment before he joined her.

"You really weren't kidding when you said you've seen a lot of things," Barbara said.

"Most of it's one long blur to be honest." Walter looked up at the cloudy sky.

"I can't imagine what it would be like to live for so long," Barbara said. "That must be…"

"Very lonely," Walter finished.

Barbara looked up in surprise. "Lonely?" she asked. "But you were living among humans, right? And the other changelings."

"Yes, I usually lived among humans, but I always knew I wasn't one of them. We moved around so often there was no use in getting attached to anyone," Walter explained. "And changelings… Well… we all knew not to trust one another, so we didn't even try. Being social, forming friendships – that wasn't something we did. It was all about following orders and trying to get into Gunmar's good graces… It wasn't surprising to see a changeling stab another changeling in the back for a power grab, or a chance at survival. That kind of life was all most of us knew…"

Barbara sighed. "I know you wanted more for them." She leaned up against Walter, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's hardly your fault," Walter replied.

"Right." Barbara shivered a little. The rain had finally gotten to her and she shook from the cold.

Walter hesitated, then extended one wing and wrapped it around Barbara, shielding her from the rain. Even though she was already soaked, the body heat he gave off warmed her.

"I hope you enjoyed your day," Walter said.

"I did." Barbara nodded. "It was wonderful."

"Any favorite bits?" Walter asked.

"Yeah." Barbara moved closer to him. "This." She leaned into him and closed her eyes, content. "I like this."

Walter looked down at her and with a gentleness he didn't know he still had in this form, he touched her fiery hair, now damp with the rain. "I'm glad you had a good time," he whispered.

"Yeah, me too." Barbara relaxed.

Walter was thankful she hadn't asked him what he'd done today. With every passing day it was more difficult to suppress his primal instincts. He'd had to stop himself from wrecking the rental cars he'd been stuck inside. Today he'd finally let loose while hunting down a wild boar, then he'd eaten the beast – devoured was a far more accurate word.

His urges were sated, but for how long? He could only pray he'd have the strength to keep up the façade for rest of the year.


	14. Ones a mother, always a....

The nice thing about Europe was that the countries there were small; you could drive through several big cities – even across several borders in one day. You could go from Germany, to France, to Italy, and to Austria all in one long car ride lasting no more than twenty-four hours.

In the US, however, it was a different story. Roads could go on forever and it might be ten hours or more between two major cities. Unfortunately, Gyre's stations were built sparingly across the continental US. On the upside though, the biggest cities boasted a population far exceeding a whole European country which meant there were several orphanages per state.

The trip to Philadelphia was long and boring, but finally they arrived and Walter itched to be let out of the newest in a long line of cramped vans, even if his freedom meant he had to travel through the sewers.

Removing a baby from the cradle stone had become its own little ritual. As it turned out, a newly liberated child was always hungry, so they made sure to have a fresh bottle ready for each one upon their exit from the cradle stone.

Walter could only keep thanking the stars that Barbara was there with him. He'd managed to feed some of the children himself, but he still wasn't entirely happy about it. Worst of all, the irritating, squirmy little things had started to grow on him. Barbara's open adoration for them and their small, giddy faces – It was kind of cute… a little bit.

Every time they took a child he reminded himself he could not get attached. This was already hard enough for Barbara. She always looked heart-broken when she had to give a baby up.

Walter watched Barbara as she held their most recently released baby, who had already been fed and burped. Barbara sat on a large, smooth boulder just outside the van and rocked the little boy gently. The light of the waning moon and sea of stars above glowed dimly around them.

Walter edged over beside her. "Barbara?"

"Just… give me one second more," Barbara pleaded as she laid a hand softly over the little one's chest. The baby grabbed her finger and Barbara sucked in a hard breath, meeting the child's inquisitive eyes.

"Barbara, you need to give him to me now," Walter instructed, holding out his arms to receive the infant.

Barbara stared, transfixed, at the baby.

"Barbara," Walter tried again.

"No," Barbara said firmly, jaw set.

"What?" Walter asked.

"Not this one," Barbara stated. "I know we need to find homes for the others… but not him."

Dumbfounded, Walter stared at Barbara, not quite comprehending what she just said.

She started to hum softly, once again rocking the baby in her arms.

"Oh, Barbara," Walter sighed. "You know how this goes. We have done it hundreds of times already. You need to give me that baby."

"No!" Barbara snapped. She held the baby closer and gave Walter a hard look, daring him to try to take the little one from her. "Not this one. You're not taking him," she insisted, abruptly standing up.

Walter gaped, then his travel-weary, trollish temper finally got the better of him."That's not how this works!" he growled as he made a grab for the child. Barbara twisted out of the way, holding tightly to the baby boy. "Barbara!" Walter seethed as he turned to her, his yellow eyes glowing a deep, sinister gold. His voice was even more gruff than usual and he stood, ready to make another move to take the baby away. "Give him to me! Now!"

"No!" Barbara countered, then spun around and took off.

"Barbara! Wait!" Walter shouted after her. With a groan he set out in pursuit. It was far too easy to catch her. She was blocked in on one side by a high wall that ran the length of the street. He jumped up onto it and used the momentum to leap in front of Barbara, landing right in her path and forcing her to skid to a halt. "Stop this!" he roared.

At his tone, Barbara's eyes flew wide in terror. She stumbled backwards, clutching the baby to her trembling body and swallowing hard.

With a low snarl, Walter prepared to spring at the unreasonable woman and force the baby out of her grasp.

"Please," Barbara pleaded, her eyes welling up. "Don't do this. I'm begging you, Walt!"

At the sight of her tears Walter blinked, snapping out of his thick, hunter's haze. His eyes widened in shock as he finally realized… Barbara was terrified of him... She had never looked frightened before. At worst she'd been angry with him, and once she'd even smacked him with a shovel. She'd never backed away from him like this... or trembled in fear.

Walter stood horrified, shaken by the realization of what he had almost done. "Barbara..." he reached out an unsteady claw toward her. Barbara only stepped further away from him.

"You're not taking him, I wont let you," Barbara said again, but this time her voice quivered.

Defeated and guilt-ridden, Walter gazed at her with hopeless eyes. "What on earth makes this one so different from all the others?" he finally asked. "I'm... sorry. I lost my temper. I wont –" he stumbled through his words. "I won't take him from you, but… you need to be reasonable, alright? You… you're being –" he halted, at a loss for words.

"Emotional?" Barbara asked, then she closed her eyes as she held the baby close. "Yes, I am," she admitted. "And I'll tell you why. It's because this child is mine," she declared. "You're not going to take this one."

Walter stared at her, astonished.

Barbara clung to that baby as if he were life itself. She held up the little boy and touched her forehead gently to his.

Stinging from her rebuke, Walter slinked far enough away that he was hidden by the wall's tall shadow. Only his yellow eyes were visible as they glowed softly from the darkness.

Barbara tore her gaze away from the infant, confused to no longer see Walter standing in her path. "Walt? Where are you?"

"That child sure is lucky." His softened voice drifted to her from the nearby dark shadow. "He is going to have the most wonderful mother in the entire world."

Barbara gasped, "You – You're letting me?" She found his golden eyes in the darkness.

"I don't really find myself in a position to argue here, do I?" Walter asked from his retreat. "And besides, these children… The aim is to give them parents, hopefully. You're already the best parent there is, Barbara. I guess in a way, it makes – Huh?!" he didn't get any further as Barbara rushed to him, running straight into his shadowy hiding place. With one arm she hugged him tightly and with the other, she held the baby.

"Thank you," Barbara sniffed. "Thank you so much!" She cried, tears dripping from her eyes and rolling down her face.

Walter let out a long sigh as he laid a gentle hand on Barbara's back, giving her an apologetic pat. They stepped apart again.

"Now... give him to me," Walter said gently, holding out his arms. Barbara tensed, taking a quick step back, putting herself between Walter and the infant. "I am only going to put him back into the cradle stone," Walter assured her. "He is going to be safer in there than out here, and when our travels are finished and we've returned home you may have him. Will that be alright?" he asked in a calm, patient voice.

Barbara gulped nervously, but nodded. She bowed her head and kissed the baby then finally handed him over to Walter. The little boy looked so peaceful, even in the hands of the same monster who'd so frightened him and all the other children not so long ago. The baby yawned, closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Walter looked down at the tiny creature Barbara had claimed for her own. As he lay there, content, the child did, in fact look genuinely at peace. The boy's eyes cracked open and he looked up at Walter with a soft giggle, reaching his little chubby hands up towards Walter's face. He wasn't the least bit scared by Walter's appearance now, in fact the little one looked like he wanted to get even closer.

"Do you have any idea how lucky you are?" Walter asked the little boy. Of course, the baby didn't understand him. Or... maybe he did. The child looked happy and satisfied as he fell asleep again, his face the picture of bliss.

Barbara smiled as she stepped up beside Walter, practically leaning against the troll as she looked at the baby in his arms. "What should we call him?" she asked.

"What?" Walter asked.

"He needs a name," Barbara said "What about… Dickard?"

"If you want him to be bullied at school because everyone calls him 'Dick' then yes, that's a wonderful idea," Walter quipped dryly.

"Oh, come on. Children wouldn't bully someone over a name," Barbara retorted.

"Barbara, I am – I was a teacher. I know they would," Walter insisted.

Barbara snorted. "Well, do you have any ideas then, Mr. Smarty-pants?" she asked.

"Well..." Walter hesitated as he looked at the baby in his arms again. "You know… Barbara, being out here, doing something like this. It's not really something I would ever have imagined doing. I never thought I would be able to change like this… I mean," he stopped. "I lost everything," he continued. "And yet… standing here with you, there's still… hope." He gently brushed the baby's face, careful not to scratch the soft skin with his claw. "In one of the oldest languages in the world, the name Amil means 'Hope.' It was the name of a pure young maiden who inspired hope in the face of all odds… How about Emil?" he asked as he looked at Barbara.

Barbara's eyes were wide as she stared back at Walter, her mouth hanging open in utter disbelief. The next instant she was beaming. "That's it!" she exclaimed. "Emil!" She laughed, looking down at the little boy. "That's his name, Walt! It's perfect; you've gotten it exactly right."

Baffled, Walter looked at Barbara. Gotten it right? How could he get it right when he'd just made it up off the cuff?

"We didn't choose him; he chose us." Barbara took a deep breath and let it out all at once. "You'll see." She smiled happily.

"Wait… Us?" Walter thought. His eyes returned to the child and he sighed. "Let's head back." He carefully carried the baby to their van and the cradle stone waiting inside it. He stepped up to the stone and mumbled the incantation. Emil disappeared into a wisp of light and floated back into the stone. Soon his face stared up at them through the amber walls of the magical rock.

Barbara smiled softly as she knelt down in front of the stone, placing her hand on it as she faced the happy baby. "Emil, I – we have so much to show you. Oh, and you need to meet your brother! Jim is going to be so excited!"

Walter wasn't entirely sure about that, but he wasn't going to spoil the moment, instead he slowly backed away, giving Barbara some space.

"Walt?" Barbara glanced at him over her shoulder.

"I – I'm sorry. Please, excuse me. I just need –" Walter turned away and vanished into the darkness.

Confused, Barbara looked at place the troll disappeared. Was something wrong? He'd been alright just a moment ago. Why had he left so suddenly?

Walter needed air – space! Anything! He leapt up and grabbed the nearby wall climbing to the top of it, then did what he usually wouldn't, spread out his wings to launch himself even higher until he landed on the top of one of the skyscrapers. There, he could finally feel the wind on his face. He hung his head and groaned.

A baby! Barbara was going to raise that child, and she wanted him to be a part of it. How could she even conceivably think that would be a possibility?

Walter groaned, hiding his face in his hands as he realized the worst part of all… He wanted this. He wanted to help Barbara raise that child. But how could he? How could he help them or provide for them? It was impossible... Or was it?

Walter pulled out his phone. Jim's number stared up at him from his contact list. Merlin would undoubtedly be close to Jim. Walter swallowed hard, and then sighed as he shoved the phone back into his pocket without making the call. He hid his face again as the conflicting pieces of his soul knotted up inside him. What had he gotten himself into? What was he supposed to do?


	15. Atlas

Street lights glared in through the driver's side window, and Barbara could barely sit still in her seat. She fidgeted with nervous energy. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel and she chewed her lip, staring at the back windshield of the Subaru stopped in front of their van.

She reminded herself that the wait time wasn't so strange for this area. It was already nine o'clock at night, but the traffic was still backed up. They were headed out of New York and into New Jersey. Every car in the long line ahead, every red light that kept her from moving forward was just another obstacle keeping Barbara away from her son.

She was beyond excited when Walter had suggested she should spend a few days with Jim. She'd protested, asking who would do the nightly drop-offs, but Walter assured her he could take care of the deliveries across New York City. It was such a large place with so many strange things lurking about its streets that in this case, he could manage to do it himself. Barbara hadn't objected.

"Oh, come on!" Barbara shouted as she braked, coming up behind yet another line of stopped cars. "You stupid –"

Walter elected to just tune out the rest of that particular word stream completely, ignoring the swearing, but as Barbara raised her fist to smack the horn he intervened.

"Doing that won't make traffic go any faster," Walter said, causing Barbara to stop mid-swing. "Worst-case scenario, you'll land yourself in trouble. The local police aren't likely to be understanding of such shenanigans. If you attract their attention you will have to explain why there's a troll and a magical, infant-laden stone in your backseat."

Barbara seethed, but uncurled her fist and lowered her hand to grip the wheel again. Since it looked like they were going to be stuck in traffic for some time, she turned on the cab light to look for her water bottle.

Walter knew how much Barbara wanted to see Jim again, but on the rare occassion she lost her temper the look on her face struck him as amusing. He shook his head and crept toward the front of the car, careful to keep his horns lower than the side windows. He curled up behind Barbara's seat so she could feel his weight against her back. "Hey," he said softly, reaching up to click off the light, then twisted around the seat, his head hovering right next to hers. "Jim is not going anywhere; he's waiting for you." Walter picked Barbara's phone up out of the passenger's seat. "Look." He showed her Jim's most recent text.

He knew Barbara had already read it, but she needed to see it again – remember what her son had said, "When you arrive, remember to call so Claire can come outside and show you the way in. Looking forward to seeing you so much! I have a lot of things to show you. Miss you! Love, Jim!"

Barbara sighed and took her phone out of Walter's hand, pressing it over her heart. "I know... It just – It feels like it's been forever!" she exclaimed. "Do you think he needs anything?" she asked. "Should we stop by the store and get some stuff? Do you think he has enough underwear? Socks? What about a sweater? It could be cold so deep underground –"

The touch of a clawed hand on her arm cut her off.

"I am quite confident that both Blinkous and Ms. Nuñez have made sure Jim doesn't need anything," Walter said. "They have both proven themselves to be quite protective of him. In fact, as I recall Jim has often been quite annoyed due to their constant overprotectiveness."

"Well, someone has to look after him," Barbara asserted. "That boy always gets himself into the strangest trouble. Doesn't he know how to say 'No'? Or how to just… not rush straight into a dragon's mouth?"

"Well, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, now does it?" Walter smirked.

"What was that?" Barbara asked.

"Nothing." Walter pulled back around the seat and leaned up against the back of it."Mrs. Atlas."

"Hey, what is that supposed to mean?" Barbara asked. "Did you just insult me?"

"No," Walter chuckled. "Atlas is one of the Titans in Greek mythology. He was tasked to carry the whole world on his shoulders – an enormous burden. But the tragedy is that he did so alone. Having to face such loneliness while carrying an enormous weight..." He stared up at the ceiling. "It's what really struck me about Jim when I first met him. He was such a young boy, but he was carrying the entire world on his own shoulders, and that was even before he found the Trollhunter's amulet. The name only seemed to become more appropriate after that happened." He sighed. "You're exactly the same, Barbara. You're trying to carry everything alone." He looked over his shoulder, catching Barbara's blue eyes staring at him in the rear-view mirror. "I hope the both of you realize… you don't have to do it alone. I am here, and I will gladly help you." He looked into her face for long moment, watching as her gaze flitted from him to the traffic and back.

"So that's what that name is about." Barbara smiled softly. "It's way too fitting… I was the one who was supposed to take care of Jim and he always took care of me instead," she muttered. "Even when he was little… I –" she choked, closing her eyes to fight off tears.

"What is it?" Walter asked.

"What have I done?" Barbara asked, the hurt in her voice gripping Walter's heart. "How can I take care of Emil? I always relied far too much on Jim to fix things. I wasn't even that good of a mother. Maybe – I should give Emil up; it's not too late, right?" she asked. "I –"

"No!" Walter came around the seat again, his intense eyes capturing her attention. "Barbara, listen to me!" Walter insisted. "You're a wonderful mother. Emil is your son now, and you don't have to worry. I will help you. We'll figure it out together. You were all alone with Jim, carrying the burdens of the world by yourself, but it doesn't have to be that way this time."

Barbara sniffed, then she smiled as she looked up, her eyes misty. "Thank you, Walt. I'm so glad you're here with me." She dried her eyes and sat up straighter, clearing her throat. "I can't wait until I tell Jim the news."

Walter smiled. "He may be a little surprised, but I'm sure he'll be happy for you. That's how Young Atlas is. You raised him well."

Walter's words lifted her spirits as the traffic finally started moving again, allowing them to resume their journey toward New Jersey... and Jim.


	16. Brothers and sisters

After wading through New York traffic, the rest of the trip to New Jersey went smoothly. They arrived at their destination just before dawn. As the sky began to lighten into gray morning, Walter and Barbara slipped out of the van, Walter wearing his cloak, a brown bag slung over his shoulder containing the cradle stone and a few other things.

Claire, as promised, waited for them in an alley. The moment the girl saw them her face lit up and she ran to give Barbara a hug. When she turned to Walter, she hesitated, finally settling on offering him her hand, which Walter accepted, shaking it as they exchanged a few words.

Together, the three sneaked through the dirty alleyway, arriving at an entrance to the sewers. The went in, but they didn't get very far before Claire withdrew a glowing horngozzle and drew an arching door on the wall with the magical stone. The concrete barrier dissolved, opening up into a big tunnel that went farther underground.

Walter glanced around. The tunnel looked freshly-made, recently dug by trolls.

"It's a bit of a way down from here," Claire said. "I suppose you both know how it is. Trolls like to live pretty deep underground, plus the Heartstone is fairly far down to begin with."

True enough, the tunnel wound further and further downwards. Even walking as quickly as Barbara's excited pace took them, it was still quite a while before the tunnel finally opened up into a massive underground cave.

Everywhere they looked new constructions were going up, using all kinds of strange things that looked like everyday trash.

From what they could see, the trolls had an "anything goes" mentality when choosing their building supplies: old tv's used as blocks for the foundation, broken refrigerators stacked on top of each other to construct pillars, and holed tarps used as walls.

Everywhere, trolls were milling about working on their construction projects. There were large piles of unused items stacked and sorted according to what they were. There was a mound of blenders and another heap consisting of broken laptops. Seeing the trolls' junk horde made Walter realize humans threw away an awful lot.

"This cave connects to an underground river. Right over there," Claire said, indicating a swiftly moving stream at the other end of the cavern. "Everything you see here are things the trolls fished up from the river. From some of the stuff I've seen pulled out of there, I think it might connect to the Hudson."

Walter wrinkled his face in disgust but just as he was about to make a comment, a shout rang out through the entire cave.

"MOM!"

Barbara gasped, looking down to see a blue-skinned troll running toward her.

"Jim!" She rushed to meet her son and cried with joy as Jim threw his arms around her in a massive hug. He lifted her off her feet as she let out an elated laugh, returning his hug. Tears fell down her face as her son set her down. She gasped, out of breath from the excitment.

"Jim!" she sniffed as she took his face in her hands. "Have you been doing okay? Did you make sure to eat? Sleep?" she asked. "How's your wound? Is it doing okay? You're looking pale. Is this normal for you now?" She studied his face with her doctor's eye, peering at him from different angles.

"Mom, I'm fine," Jim assured. "How about you? Did you remember to eat properly?" he asked looking at her with questioning eyes. "You didn't get hurt out there did you? Or get into trouble?"

Barbara laughed at the questions. "No, I'm fine." She smiled, then dried her tears with the back of her hand.

Standing a respectable distance away, Walter observed the exchange between mother and son and allowed himself a smile. He hefted the weight of his bag, feeling the cradle stone bump up against him.

Claire grinned at Jim and Barbara too, happy to share in their glad reunion.

After a few minutes, Walter slipped down towards the two, stopping just behind Barbara, and Claire stepped up beside Jim.

Blinkous Galadrigal appeared just behind Jim and said to Barbara, "I assure you I have done my utmost to research and maintain all of Jims need," the six-eyed troll asserted. He recited some of his findings, "A human needs eight hours of sleep a day; eight cups of water; twenty-five hundred calories every twenty four hours – though I will admit I don't know how many calories aegirine stones have as there haven't been any humans kind enough to tell me that – oh, and before bedtime he –"

"Blinky!" Jim cut him off before he brought up a subject Jim didn't want to get into.

"Now, now, Master Jim. I am just assuring your mother that you have been well taken care of," said Blinky.

Jim groaned and rolled his eyes.

Barbara chuckled. "Thank you, Blinky. This does set my mind at ease quite a bit."

"It is I who am grateful," Blinky gave Barbara a bow. "I get to spend even more time with Jim, which does make this whole endeavor much more manageable. Jim has been invaluable to me as I led the trolls here, and he is a great help to us as we continue to set up our new home here." He proudly laid a hand on Jim's shoulder.

"You did most of it, Blinky." Jim deflected the praise. "The trolls chose you as their leader for a reason," he said, sending a wide smile over Blinky's face at the boy's praise.

"I'm just glad you're doing well," Barbara said, looking as though she would burst at the seams if she didn't say the one thing she most wanted to tell her son. "I have great news for you, Jim!" The words gushed out.

"What? What is it?" Jim asked, wide-eyed at his mother's exclamation.

Barbara grinned, eyes bright. "You're going to be a big brother!"

"What?" Jim asked, Barbara's words not immediately sinking in. When he finally realized what she'd said, his widening eyes flitted from his mother's flat stomach to Walter. "What?!" he exclaimed. "How is that possible?!" He gave Walter a deadly glare.

Walter lifted an eyebrow and reached down into his shoulder bag, pulling out the cradle stone. He set it on the ground.

Jim looked at the rock in confusion as Walter whispered a few trollish words. A whisp of light escaped the stone and formed a little, dark-haired baby in the changeling's arms. He held the child out to Barbara. She beamed, taking the baby and holding him close.

"Jim, this is Emil. He's your new little brother." Barbara held out the baby boy for Jim to see.

"Oh," Jim realized, letting out a sigh of relief. "One of the familiars," he said, then muttered under his breath, "Oh, thank God." He turned his attention back to his mother."Wait, you adopted him?" he asked.

"Uhuh." Barbara nodded.

"That's great!" Claire beamed. "Jim, you have a brother. Isn't that wonderful?" She reached out to tap Emil's nose affectionately.

"Uh..." Jim blinked, looking overwhelmed.

"Having small siblings is wonderful," Claire assured him. "Seeing as I have two of them, I suppose I have to say that." She giggled just as a small troll with scruff around his neck jumped up on her shoulder.

"You called?" NotEnrique asked. "Aww, what a cute little goober you have there." He gave Emil a toothy grin. "Why, he almost looks good enough to eat!"

"Seriously?" Claire gave NotEnrique a sisterly smack.

"Haha! Just jokin'," NotEnrique laughed.

"Well, personally I think brothers are highly overrated," Blinky snorted as he crossed all four arms just as Emil let out a gurgly laugh. Blinky glanced down at the baby only to melt. "Awww..." he cooed.

"Jim?" Barbara looked at her older son, starring, transfixed, at the baby in her arms.

"Huh?" Jim's eyes snapped back to his mother. "Oh, sorry. I just… Oh wow," he breathed. "This is… pretty huge – I mean – " he stuttered. "I um... I..."

"Do you want to hold him?" Barbara held out Emil.

"Well, I…. What I mean is..." Jim hesitated.

"Just do it already." Claire gave him a gentle shove towards the baby. "You were really good at holding Enrique; this shouldn't be too hard for you."

Jim swallowed nervously, but accepted the infant. He looked at the little boy with wondering eyes. "Emil?" he asked. "Did you come up with that, Mom?"

"No, Walt did," Barbara admitted. "I wanted to call him 'Dickard' but Walt said I couldn't."

"Huh?" Jim raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Walter.

"No offense to your mother, but she is terrible with names," Walter said, scooping up the cradle stone and depositing it back in its bag.

"I think you saved this kid's life," Jim chuckled, then looked down at Emil again as the boy laughed up at him. "Heh. Hey, you're pretty cute." He brushed the little one's cheek, but a second later, he frowned.

"Jim... what is it?" Barbara asked, concerned.

"Oh, uh..." Jim fumbled. "Sorry. This baby just… seems kind of familiar. I'm probably just imagining it." He shook his head. "So, my little brother, huh?" he asked. "Heh. You know, I think I can get used to that," he finally said.

Barbara smiled, happily watching her older son holding his baby brother so tenderly. Tears blurred her vision.

Walter felt a sense of relief wash over him as Jim accepted the little one without a word of protest. As he watched, an itch tickeled the back of his neck. Walter twisted around and looked up to find a pair of watching eyes.

Merlin stood at the mouth of another cave entrance on a higher level of the cavern, observing the little group, a stern expression on his face.

Walter glared at the wizard, his eyes glowing golden as he involuntarily bared his fangs for a moment. Merlin noticed him, but appeared unimpressed with his show of guardianship. The old wizard eventually turned around and disappered back into the cave mouth – probably retreating to his dwelling.

Soon, Claire pushed everybody else away from Jim and Barbara, including Blinky and Walter who were both quite reluctant to leave.

Walter was particularly reticent as the image of an observing Merlin nagged him. Instead of leaving entirely, he clandestinely took up a vantage point where he could still see Barbara and Jim as they walked down by the river to talk.

Walter didn't have to wait long though before someone else approached him. Another troll, her fuscia skin just as smooth as her long, black hair came up beside him. Her green, cat-like eyes greeted Walter.

"Well met, Stricklander." The other troll smirked as she stepped toward him. "Still alive I see."

"And may I say the same to you, Nomura." Walt smirked back as he bowed his head in a formal greeting. "The trolls haven't killed you yet I see."

"Hah! I would like to see them try!" Nomura grinned. "No, they've all been sickeningly nice and accepting. It makes me want to throw up." She rolled her eyes. "And then there's that six-eyed loud mouth, always insisting I participate in their little games – something about strengthening our bonds. No, thank you," she snorted.

Walter bit back a chuckle. Nomura hadn't changed a bit. "So, have you gotten yourself a little cave removed from the rest of the trolls?" he asked. "Becoming a nasty old hermit perhaps?"

"What can I say? It's the way I like it." Nomura shrugged. "If you ask me, it's way better than settling down with a human and raising a baby – and a human baby at that. You must have gone insane, Stricklander!"

"That... may very well be a fair assessment," Walter admitted with a shrug. He returned his attention to Barbara and Jim.

"How would that even work?" Nomura went on. "A troll helping raising a human baby? You can't even take it out for walks in daylight hours, or go to parent conferences. What are you going to do? Sit in Mrs. Lake's basement all day so you see to the nighttime nappy changes? And the occassional... what? Not being able to see his football matches?"

Walter's jaw tightened as he stared down at Barbara, who still held Emil.

Nomura noticed his tension. She blinked. "Oh," she muttered, realizing she'd hit a nerve. "Sorry."

"It's alright. It's not like I haven't already been thinking about those things," Walter admitted. "You're absolutely correct. This whole idea is 's the Lakes for you; they come up with insane ideas, and manage to go through with them – somehow."

"That is true," Nomura allowed in a nod. "Well, if she is anything like her son, she'll make it work somehow."

"They are two sides of the same coin," Walter said.

"Hah! I pity you," Nomura laughed.

"Your concern is appreciated," Walt replied drily. With one hand he dug into his bag, pulling out an MP3 player. "You didn't take your gramophone with you from Arcadia did you?" He held out the device. "I know it's not the same, but I did put all the classics on it: George Bizet, Chopin, and of course, the entirety of Peer Gynt."

Nomura gasped at the sight of the player, then accepted the device, its charger, and a set of white earbuds eagerly. "Thank you! The trolls around here," Nomura hissed in disgust. "They have no musical taste!"

"Glad I could be of service," said Walter.

Nomura's face turned somber. "So… you checked some of the secret changeling hiding places you passed by out there?" Nomura asked.

Walter sighed heavily. "Yes, I checked the one in France, the one in England and the one in New Zealand – and a few smaller meeting places elsewhere in the world."

"And?" Nomura asked.

"Empty," Walter said, downcast. "Doesn't look like they've been used for months, perhaps longer." He sighed again. "There was no sign of other changelings – not even once... I'm sorry."

Nomura clutched the MP3 player to her chest. "We already knew that was probably how it was," she said, loosening her grip on the device. She turned it on. A display showcasing all the artists stored on the player looked back at her. There were dozens of them represented on the tiny device – the greatest European composers of all time. Nomura smiled sadly as she put in the earbuds, then selected the correct opera and closed her eyes. As the music took over, she let all her worries melt away and softly hummed with the overture from Peer Gynt. Without another word she walked away.

Changelings weren't exactly known for doing nice things for anyone, not even each other, but… it was nice doing something for his changeling sister. In a strange way, the fact that they were the only two left – besides NotEnrique – had brought them closer. Even in the midst of their brethren's tragic demise, the connection he still shared with Nomura was reassuring and brought with it a measure of comfort. At least he wasn't truly alone.


	17. Something to protect

Exhilaration sang through Walter as he moved swiftly through New York City. He leapt from building to building under the midnight sky.

New York truly was a remarkable place. It was so large and sported enough oddities that even if someone caught a glimpse of him, it wouldn't make any difference. This was the city where stange things happened every single day, and most of them were written off as people being eccentric.

To Walter's great surprise, tonight Nomura asked to accompany him on the delivery run. He'd hesitated to accept her request, but eventually agreed. Dare he say it was turning out to be... fun?

The pair tag-teamed the deliveries across the city, at times racing one another to the next building, or teasing some of the humans around them, causing looks of abject confusion on many faces.

Their games were completely unnecessary, and yet... even though Walter's rational self told him they had no business cavorting around a city so thick with humans, he found himself enjoying it.

Being able to show his true nature without restraint made him feel free, and having someone who could match his speed and strength running beside him fueled that feeling even more.

The plentiful sewers proved to be quite useful for them to move from one part of the town to the other, especially when they got caught out in the daylight after their long night.. Even while they were relegated to the tunnels beneath the city, they moved with such incredible speed that they covered great distances.

They had just finished their last sewer run and were waiting just inside the mouth of an exit tunnel for the sun to go down.

Walter leaned against the cement wall. Next to him, Nomura lay on her back atop a maintanence platform.

She turned on her MP3 player, but instead of using headphones she let the music play through a built-in speaker. The gentle notes of Madame Butterfly echoed softly, filling the sewers with its sweet sound.

The music soothed both former changelings and Walter exhaled deeply, allowing the notes to fill his mind and calm his soul.

"You know…" Nomura sighed. "Truthfully I don't miss my human form that much." She crossed her arms and legs and stared up at the sewer ceiling. "But I wish I could go to the theatre again... just one last time."

"I don't think that is entirely out of the realm of possibility," Walter offered. "I hear the Palais Garnier in Paris has a number of secret tunnels hidden within its walls."

Nomura let out a sharp laugh.

"And I'm sure you'll find your way into some of the local theaters," Walter said. "All the finest opera singers and musicians in the entire world come to New York sooner or later, after all. Just be sure you aren't caught."

"Heh," Nomura snorted. "Your concern is touching." She tapped her nail on the concrete, keeping time with the music. "Just look at me, trying to make small talk with you. Before all this started, I didn't even like you!"

"Well," Walter folded his arms. "You didn't like anyone, so I won't take that too personally." He glanced out at the darkening sky. "You would be hard-pressed to find a changeling who did like me, now wouldn't you?"

Nomura didn't reply, and Walt glanced over at her.

"It's true," she admitted. "There was a lot of talk amongst us lower ranked changelings… about your true motives. There were many of us who doubted you, but… equally as many respected you, or even looked up to you... as the ideal changeling."

"Look how well that turned out," Walter muttered.

Nomura sat up and stared down into the runoff at the bottom of the tunnel."We were all doomed the day Gunmar regained his power regardless, weren't we?" she whispered. "The fact that you, I and NotEnrique are still here is just dumb luck when it comes right down to it."

"No, it was Jim. He saved each of us on three separate occasions," Walter countered. To this, Nomura grew quiet, then nodded.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Nomura asked, turning her gaze toward the ceiling, her eyes far away, voice quiet. "There's no one to fight against anymore... it's... so strange."

"You could always take the time to watch a few operas," Walter suggested.

Nomura blinked. "Oh… I suppose," she waved off his suggestion, then the corner of her mouth rose in a smirk. "Heh."

"What?" Walter asked.

"It's just nice talking with someone who isn't a complete idiot." Nomura snorted. "Those trolls are such dimwits! It certainly wasn't the brightest ones who survived Gunmar's cull."

"I know it isn't easy for you to settle in with the other trolls," Walter said.

"No," Nomura admitted. "I keep seeing how different we are. When we arrived in New Jersey, I realized I'd never actually lived among trolls before. It's rather obvious I'm the outsider here." She pulled her knees up and rested her forehead on them. "I'm not really one of them. They know that, and I know that."

Walter nodded. "I know it's frustrating, but the important thing is that you've survived. Now, you need to live, Nomura."

"Hmpf! I'll decide what I need to do!" Nomura huffed, then let out a tired sigh and lay back down. She turned up the sound on her MP3 player so the clear soprano rang through the tunnel, belting out Un bel di vedremo. A couple of minutes into the aria, Nomura turned her green eyes to Walter and said,"It's easy for you, Stricklander; you have someone to protect."

"So do you," Walter countered. "You have Jim, and the denizens of Trollmarket. All their warriors were taken by Gunmar; you're the only one left to protect them."

At that, Nomura turned the sound down again. She lay quietly, listening to the rest of the aria. When the song ended she said, "Jim told me that too… Said he wanted me to help him protect Trollmarket… But I don't – I'm just not sure." She closed her eyes and sighed.

"Jim has elected to put his trust in you. I'm quite sure you'll do fine," Walter assured her.

As the sun sank lower in the sky, Walter's thoughts turned to his own toubles. Tonight was his last in New York City. When he made it back to Jersey it would be time to move on…. He'd put off talking with Merlin. The meer sight of the old man made him want to snarl. He had no desire at all to approach the wizard, much less ask him for something, but his window of time was quickly closing. He had to ask… He had to know... if there was a chance.


	18. The beast within

He couldn't put it off any longer.

Walter stood at the entrance to Merlin's cave. He closed his eyes and took a breath, forcing down his troll nature and dredging up his sophisticated, well-spoken side. He and Barbara were leaving in just a few hours. They couldn't stay here any longer. There was too much left to do.

He held on to the reason he'd come as he stepped inside.

The interior of Merlin's cave was impressive to say the least. While the troll's homes were built out of old trash, Merlin's dwelling was beautifully furnished. Each piece of wooden furniture carried the same design, but even though Walter knew it had to be ancient, the furnishings looked brand new.

Every wall was covered in shelves, each one of them filled with items and artifacts. In the middle of the room stood a large table, filled with bubbling potions of differing colors. A lit furnace stood at the back of the room. It blazed with a woodless, green flame. Walter recognized the strong magic. Only the most powerful of wizards would be able to create such a fire, and though Walter hated to admit it, such a show of prowess was far beyond him.

Standing in front of the fire with his back to Walter was just the man he sought – Merlin, the grand wizard. Merlin's armor shone in the flickering firelight as he stood, straight-backed, his hands clasped behind him.

Walter fell to his knees, head bowed low as he entreated the wizard. "Oh, grand Merlin, Greatest of all Warlocks, Master of life and death, Whisperer of winds –"

"Ugh..." Merlin groaned without turning around. "Are you trying to bore me to death?" he asked.

Walter held back a hiss, managing not to snap a harsh reply to the old man's rudeness. "I humbly apologize for my intrusion." The words tasted sour in his mouth, but he said them anyway. His determination to find an answer was the only thing that kept him from getting up and walking out. "I beseech your advice." He felt the wizard's displeasure and didn't dare even look up at Merlin as he said, "If you would allow me to speak..."

"I don't need to hear what you have to say," Merlin dismissed, his back still to Walter.

"You already know what I intend to ask?" Walter finally braved a glance up at the wizard, surprised.

"I haven't got a clue what you want. I just don't care." Merlin shrugged.

Walter was taken aback by the wizard's flippancy. He tensed, narrowing his yellow eyes at the old man's back and letting out an involuntary sneer.

Merlin glanced over his shoulder. Seeing Walter on his knees, eyes full of contempt, he said, "Oh, what's this? Are you angry? Did I make you mad?" To Walter's further disgust, Merlin sounded amused.

Walter did his best to collect himself, hauling in a deep breath as he stood up. "I apologize," he said grudgingly, giving the wizard a bow before raising to his full height. "Please... I only need to ask one question."

"Spare me." Merlin turned away, rolling his eyes. "Standing in such close proximity to one of Morgana's disgusting creations already doesn't sit well with me. The only reason I didn't destroy you when I saw you arrive is because the Trollhunter won't allow it. Begone from my sight, changeling." He spat the label, not bothering to hide his revulsion.

Walter hissed, his neutral stance turning defensive as his anger rolled through him, now unchecked. Merlin's words, clearly an insult, rang in his ears.

"Changeling," he'd said, but Walter knew Merlin meant, "Impure beast!"

Merlin tossed one more glance back at Walter. "Aww, did I upset you?" he mocked. "Does it really take so little to hurt your feelings? What am I talking about? A creature like you has no feelings."

Walter roared, lunging at Merlin, grabbing his throat. "Who do you think you are, old man?!" he bellowed in the wizard's face. "Merlin, the all-wise? The all-knowing one?" Walter held Merlin's face two inches from his own and glared into his uncaring eyes. "You are as arrogant and narcissistic as they come!" he roared as he threw the old man against the wall.

Walter blinked. Merlin was gone, disappeared into a puff of smoke.

"Losing our temper, are we now?" The wizard's voice sounded from behind Walter. "How absolutely vile. You truly are just an animal." Merlin said.

Walter whirled around and let out a bestial hiss as he found the wizard again. He dropped down on all-fours, raging eyes fixed on Merlin.

"Trying to hide behind all those nice words and cultured behavior, are we? But you know already, don't you? All of that is a lie, a cheap façade. You're nothing more than a beast – a disgusting creature created to destroy humanity."

"You should know, old fool!" Walter growled. "Your kind is what made me! You are disgusting!" With a snarl he sprang at Merlin, a fist aimed directly for his smug face. The instant before Walter touched him, Merlin vanished again, leaving a wisp of smoke. "You and Morgana – you're both the same!" Walter pointed an accusing finger in the general direction he thought Merlin to be. "Dragging everyone else into your war – toying with their lives and bodies for your own gain! You treat living creatures like tools!" his furious words rumbled through the cave as he snatched a table and flung it across the room. Vials and potions shattered against the walls and floor, sending up clouds varying in color. Walter waded through the debris, his eyes searching for a hint of Merlin's location.

As he thrust aside the wrecked glass and metal he thundered, "We had nothing to do with this! Not me – not any of the changelings, and certainly not Jim! But you dragged us into this. You made us into what we are – both of you! And now you take no responsibility at all, galivanting around as if you're the god of the universe!" He shook with the weight of his rage. "Well, listen here; I am done being anyone's tool – especially yours! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

"Heh," an amused voice echoed down from above. Walter looked up to see Merlin standing atop a flight of stairs.

"Showing your true colors at last, changeling," Merlin quipped. "I believe this is the first time I've seen you display your true self at all. To be honest, that sophisticated act you put on in your human form was so fake it made me sick."

"Shut up," Walter hissed.

Merlin smirked and stepped down from his perch. He snapped his fingers. Immediately, the table flew back to its place; all the items belonging on it properly re-arranged themselves. Vials mended, and spilled potions vanished as Merlin eyed Walter. "What do you want then?" he asked.

Walter blinked, surprised.

"Come on. We don't have all day. You said you had a question," Merlin prodded. "But one question is all you get. Spend it wisely." He glared down his nose at the changeling.

Walter stared at Merlin in disbelief. He took a breath, letting his anger cool. One chance – that was all he had to get this right. It wasn't normal for Walter to feel nervous, but he did. When his rage settled, Walter asked in a quiet voice, "Do you know… if it is possible to turn a troll into a human?"

To this, Merlin raised an eyebrow. "I already told you people, I cannot transform Jim back. The change is permanent."

"I hope for your own sake that is true," Walter snarled. "If I find out there is a way and you didn't use it, I will kill you."

Merlin was unphased by the changeling's assertion.

Walter continued, "I didn't mean him though… I meant – I meant… me."

For once, Merlin's stalwart indifference vanished, and he asked in surprise, "You? You wish to be human?"

Walter clenched his jaw and stared back at Merlin.

"Do you realize what that would mean?" Merlin asked. "Giving up your life span, your strength, your own basic instincts? You wouldn't even be the same person anymore," he said. "Like it or not, that beast I saw evidence of moments ago – the one that trashed my new home – that creature was, is, and always will be what you truly are. It is the core of your being. Even when you put on a human disguise in days past, you were still a beast. The flesh you hid behind was merely a fake front, not your true self. And yet you say you want to kill it? That thing which makes you what you are?" the wizard challenged.

"I..." Walter hesitated. "I don't know; I haven't decided yet, but I need to know. Is it possible?" he asked.

"You didn't answer my first question – why would you even want that?" Merlin asked.

Walter pushed down his anxiety and looked back toward the cave exit. Just on the other side of that passage, Barbara was spending her last day with Jim.

"Mother of Jim?" Merlin asked. "You would go to such extremes for one mortal woman?"

"She's not just a woman; she's Barbara. There's no one else like her," Walter countered. "During all the millennia I have lived I have not seen the like of one such as her." He righted a nearby chair and sat down. "She is going to keep one of the babies – raise it as her own. I…I want to help her with that. If we could…" He held his face in his hands. "How can I help raise a child like this?" he asked. "How can I take care of them or provide for them?" His clawed hands slid down his stony face and into his lap. He bowed his head. "I don't expect you to understand. I don't even understand it myself, but I…" He closed his eyes, fighting back tears. He couldn't bring himself to completely voice this pain to Merlin.

Merlin stared at Walter for a long time, then finally let out a deep sigh. "You're putting me in a difficult position, changeling. I could indeed change you. I know the elixir that would do it, but it's effects would be quite permanent."

"I was afraid of that," Walter admitted.

"I don't think you realize just how extensive the changes will be," Merlin added. "It may not be easy for you to fully comprehend, but you have never been truly human before. The troll in you was always alive somewhere inside you. Even in your human form you bled the violet gore of a beast, not the crimson ilk of humanity. Jim is more human now than you were while in your human form."

"Just tell me how to do it. It will be my own decision, whether I choose to go through with it or not," Walter said.

"Very well." Merlin nodded. "I shall give you what you ask."

Walter turned surprised eyes up to Merlin.

"However." Merlin raised a cautioning finger. "Don't blame me if what you get isn't what you truly desire."

Walter looked away. "Are you aware that Blinkous Galadrigal managed to turn himself into a human and have the change last only a few weeks? Is that not possible?"

"Yes, I've heard that story," Merlin huffed and rolled his eyes. "It sounds to me like that incident was very circumstantial. Would you really want to perform such experiments on your own body with no guarantee of the outcome? And excuse me if you can't even get used to the thought of a permanent change," he said haughtily. "Maybe it wasn't that important to you after all."

Walter hissed. "Do not mock me further, wizard!"

Merlin laughed. "What do you intend to do? Wave your little claws at me some more?" asked the wizard. "You have your answer, changeling. Now kindly get out of here."

Walter's eyes smoldered with anger at Merlin's continued insults. He stood up and took a deep breath to quash some of his temper before bowing. "Thank you, great Merlin. I shall be forever in your debt."

Merlin rolled his eyes again. "I thought I told you to stop that," he snorted. "I can see through your slimy act, changeling."

"I have a name," Walter growled. "Waltolomew Stricklander!"

"A name you stole." Merlin reminded, pointing an accusatory finger at Walter's heart.

"Regardless! It has been my name for a millennium," Walter retorted. "I don't have to take this endless abuse from you just because of your spat with Morgana. Tools – mindless, heartless objects – that's all other living beings are to you, aren't they?" he asked. "Well, listen. The trolls here are not your tools; Jim is not your tool; I am not your tool!" he growled as he stormed out of Merlin's living area. Without a backward glance he made his way to the mouth of the cave, spread his wings, and flew away.

 

* * *

 

 

Walter wanted to put as much distance between himself and Merlin as possible, but despite his hatred for the wizard, he knew he had to remain close until Barbara gave her final good-byes to Jim and assured him she would be alright.

When the time came to leave, Walter and Barbara headed out the same route they'd used to enter Trollmarket. They'd trekked about halfway back to the surface when they turned a corner only to find the path barred by none other than Merlin.

Walter glared at the ancient man standing in their way and was just about to ask him what he was doing when Merlin held up a vial filled with a shining, silver liquid. "You almost forgot this." Merlin held the vial out to Walter.

Walter's eyes widened at the sight of the vial. The contents glowed in the semi-darkness. When he realized what Merlin was offering him, Walter whispered in disbelief, "Is that…?"

"It is what you asked for," Merlin replied.

"Walt?" Barbara asked. "You asked Merlin for something? What is that?" She adjusted her glasses, staring at the silver liquid.

"It's nothing," Walter assured.

Barbara frowned.

"Well, do you want it or not?" Merlin asked impatiently. "I don't have all day."

Walter hesitated, but the burning ache in his heart overcame his pride and he accepted the vial, taking it carefully in his clawed hand.

"The choice is yours, Stricklander." Merlin's voice echoed in Walter's ears as the old man vanished, leaving only the faint smell of smoke in his wake. Walter's eyes fixed on the vial in his hand.

"Walt?" Barbara asked. "What's going on?"

"Sorry," Walter shook his head and blinked away his surprise. "We need to keep going. It's already dark outside." Walter slipped the vial into his pocket and started off down the tunnel again.

"Walt?" Barbara asked. "Walt, wait!" she called, rushing after him. "What did Merlin just give you? I need you to tell me."

"I..." Walter hesitated. "Not now, Barbara. I need to think." He sent her a reassuring look. "I promise though, I won't do anything without first talking to you, alright? So, don't worry about it for now. We still have a mission to finish."

Barbara's brow furrowed in dismay and she crossed her arms. Walter knew from her expression that she was not about to let this go.

"Please, Barbara…?" Walter entreated.

Barbara finally relented. "Fine, but you are going to tell me!" she warned. "And if I find out you hid something from me then I – I – No more secrets, Walt!"

"Okay! Alright!" Walter held up his hands in surrender. "No secrets. Just… give me time," he said. "I have… a lot to sort through. I won't do anything before our mission is done, that much I can guarantee."

Barbara studied Walter, her eyes filled with doubt. She huffed and turned around. "Well, fine then. Have it your way!" she stomped off.

Wonderful… Now she was angry with him.

Walter let out a long sigh. It was never easy when Barbara was angry with him. He could only imagine how she would react when he finally told her everything.


	19. Another

The soft strain of violins and flutes rose through the caverns of New Trollmarket, soothing the ears and hearts of all who listened.

Jim approached the hypnotizing sound and easily found the source, "Morning" from Peer Gynt. It was a piece often played in this part of the caverns ever since Nomura acquired her MP3 player, which quickly turned into one of her most prized possessions. Jim had to admire the power of the piece, and all the music she'd played from up here.

Sound carried well underground, but tucked away from the rest of Trollmarket, Nomura's music could only be heard faintly from the troll village. Even so, it was noticeable enough to make some trolls stop and listen.

Jim stepped through the last archway into Nomura's lair and wasn't at all surprised to see the pink troll sitting with her back against the wall, eyes closed as she sat engrossed in the music. She cracked open her green eyes and saw Jim standing there.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing. Just wanted to check on you," Jim said. The music caught him again and he closed his eyes, listening. "I never realized before how beautiful this melody is."

When Nomura didn't comment, Jim opened his eyes to see her staring at him.

"Heh," he chuckled sheepishly. "I've never really watched a lot of theatre – aside from school plays, you know. Peer Gynt… What is it about?" he asked.

Nomura smirked, amused at his ignorance. "Your memory has grown short, Little Gynt. Don't you remember what I told you in the Darklands? It is about a young boy named Peer," she replied. "One day, he accidentally stumbles into the Hall of the Mountain King. The troll king tells Peer that to find true happiness, you must stay true to yourself."

"Oh yeah… I remember that now," Jim said. "That's pretty cool though. How does it end?" he asked. "Does Peer wind up happy?"

"No," Nomura replied.

Jim blinked confused.

"Peer…" she hesitated. "He went on to live a long and amazing life; he travelled the world and saw many wonders, had many adventures, and then he grew old. Peer realized for the first time, when he was dying, that he wasted his life. He never found true happiness and never did anything truly good. He had plenty of chances at happiness, but never took them. His life was a joke because he didn't stay true to himself. On his deathbed, he finally understands the truth, but by then it's too late."

"Wow..." Jim breathed. "That's – I'm not even sure."

"It's just a play, Jim. Don't overthink it," Nomura advised.

"Oh, right. Sure." Jim glanced away as the troll king's words rang in his head, "Stay true to yourself."

 

* * *

 

 

Walter hadn't let go of the vial Merlin gave him. It was always in his pocket, weighing heavily on his chest as a constant reminder of the choice he had to make. The vial stayed right there in his cape, the desire to look at it, burning through the fabric and into his skin with every touch.

Far too often when Walter was alone he would give in to that desire and take it out, gazing into the silver liquid with all the intensity of his divided heart. If only the answers would magically come to him – tell him what he should do.

Human… As Merlin reminded him, he had never been truly human before. Always, no matter how he covered it up, he was a troll inside. He was good at pretending, at blending in and charming people. He was practiced at appearing to be a likable person, and to his relief, no one ever saw through his act. They never discovered his true nature – until Jim and his friends, of course.

With a frustrated growl, Walter took out the vial and grasped it in both hands. What made humans so different from trolls anyway? Humans had violent tendencies. Humans hunted for prey. Humans protected their own and attacked those they considered outsiders, just like trolls. They weren't so different at all.

So why did he still hesitate? Walter growled at his infuriating indecision as he held up the vial. His hands shook. He cursed himself. What was the problem?

With a groan as he slipped the vial back into his pocket, afraid that if he looked at it for another second he would smash it into the ground in frustration.

He sighed as he looked down at the old city beneath him.

Prague, the capital of the Czech Republic, with its large, looming, and very old stone buildings was perfect for Walter in his troll form. All he had to do was sit atop a building and be still. The gargoyle statues provided the best cover he could have asked for. With their wings, fangs, and hideous faces he imagined they must look just like him to passing humans.

But instead of perching on a building, now he lurked beneath a bridge. Its ancient stone stretched across a river. He debated whether he should venture farther from Barbara.

There were still some hours until morning. When the sun rose, he would have to hide away in the car again. Barbara rented a room tonight. She was travel-weary and said that sometimes just being able to sleep in a bed made all the difference.

Walter's ears caught the whisper of movement behind him, something scrabbling up the wall.

Walter sat still and silent as the thing crawled closer. From the sound, it was large – human-sized, with the ability to climb stone walls. Walter sneaked a hand up into the bladed collar around his neck and slipped out a knife.

The sound stopped, then a second later inched closer.

Walter whirled around, blade raised. "If you hold your life dear, I suggest you stay back!" he snarled.

He was greeted with an enraged hiss and two, deep orange eyes that glowed like smoldering embers. "Stricklander!" a voice rumbled from the darkness.

"Hmpf, so you know who I am," Walt commented. "Perhaps you wouldn't mind returning the favor. Who am I speaking to?" he asked, fingering the knife he still held at the ready.

"Oh, so you've forgotten all about me – just like you forgot everyone else, I'll bet!" The voice dripped with bitterness as its owner stepped out into the moonlight where Walter could see him.

A slender, younger-looking troll with dark blue skin and short, black hair and horns appeared. He wore skin shorts and a white scarf wrapped around his neck. His amber eyes shone.

Walter gaped at the other troll. "You –You are –" he wondered, then with a relived smile replaced the knife. "You're wrong. Of course, I remember you, Alberto Daumier! One of my brethren! You're alive!" he exclaimed, happiness shining from his face. "Can it be true?"

Alberto narrowed his eyes at Walter and sneered. "Don't you play pretend with me," he snarled. The sound of ringing metal echoed under the bridge as Alberto pulled out a heavy dagger, closer to the size of a short sword.

Walter took one look at the weapon and demanded, "What's the meaning of this? What do you think you're doing, Alberto?"

"I'm taking my revenge," Alberto bellowed. "This is all your fault!" He lunged for Walter, but his target jumped aside, landing on a platform near the edge of the river.

"What?" Walter asked, taken aback by the accusation. "Explain yourself. What do you mean?"

"Don't play stupid. They're all dead!" Alberto's agonized scream pierced the night as he went for Walter again, only to miss one more time, skidding to a halt just before he toppled into the river. "Everybody – all the changelings – you killed them!" He leapt at Walter one more time.

Walter whirled out of the way and grabbed Alberto's arm, twisting it behind the other troll. "I killed them?" Walter asked. "What are you talking about, you idiot? It was Gunmar. He murdered all of them!"

"And why did he do that?" Alberto snapped. "You – You betrayed him. You betrayed Gunmar, and because of that he made everyone else pay. Just look at you – alive!" Alberto's eyes lit with fury. "You're the only one who should have died in that purge!" With a mighty shove, Alberto thrust Walter back toward the riverbank. The green changeling landed on his feet, his eyes immediately finding Alberto again.

"Listen to me," Walter demanded. "You have this all wrong. Gunmar planned to murder all of us from the beginning. He was going to kill every changeling at the Janus Order regardless of my actions!"

"LIAR!" Alberto screamed. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing. I know who you are," he roared. "Stricklander – the truest changeling of them all: able to warp reality itself with his words; tricking any human into trusting him by saying exactly what they wanted to hear; garnering followers with his pretty words. But everything you say is a lie! That is who you are, the greatest changeling of them all," he screeched. "Now die!" He charged Walter, dagger raised. Walter barely made it out of the way in time, leaping up to grab onto the stone support wall.

Walter hissed in frustration. "Alberto," he shouted at the blue-skinned changeling. "I don't want to fight you."

"Oh, that's rich," Alberto scoffed, brandishing his weapon. "You're just trying to make me lower my guard. I know the rules of this world - kill or be killed. Everyone will always be ready to betray you! Isn't that what you taught all of us? Don't trust a word of what anyone says, especially another changeling," he bit back, pointing animatedly at Walter. "Your own words!"

Walter seethed. "I taught you those things because I wanted you to survive, you nitwit! I wanted all changelings to have a chance at life. I offered you the knowledge of how to protect yourselves."

"No," Alberto snarled. "You just wanted power. You wanted the Janus Order for yourself. You didn't care about other changelings. If you did, you wouldn't have betrayed Gunmar," Alberto accused. "It was you. You murdered them. Your presence here proves that. You didn't even try to save them, did you? Where were you when Gunmar invaded?" he demanded. "Where were you when he stormed the gates of the Janus Order? Where was your warning to all those who were slaughtered that day?"

"I – I…" Walter stuttered. "I have no excuses." Guilt washed over him. "If things were different I would let you kill me. You deserve retribution, but I cannot die – not now." His eyes glowed emerald in the dark. "I warn you, do not force me to fight you," he said. "I will not allow you to take me easily." He dropped from the wall and flipped out a knife again.

Alberto bared his fangs and gripped his weapon tightly. "I've been waiting for this," he hissed. "Now die!" He rushed Walter, but the other changeling parried Alberto's blow.

It was a grim fight, reaching far into the night and down into the tunnels below Prague. Alberto relentlessly pursued Walter through the underground maze.

Alberto expected a fight, but Walter took every chance to flee. Only four changelings remained in the world. If he put all his strength into this duel, Alberto would fall – the stupid fool.

But Daumier seemed to have no qualms about killing as he roared through the sewers and over buildings, chasing Walter without mercy.

"Stand still and fight!" Alberto demanded as they skidded into an abandoned warehouse.

"Why must you be such an idiot?" Walter shot back. "Just go home!"

"And where is that?!" Alberto screamed. "I can't change! I lost my ability!" He flung his sword at Walter, just missing the other changeling's ear. The sword thunked into the far wall. "I'm stuck in the sewers. Are you stuck here too, Stricklander, or is it just me? What happened to my familiar?"

That instant, Walter realized Alberto had no idea what happened back in Arcadia. He knew of the changeling murders and Walter's betrayal of Gunmar, but no more. Upon the Gum-gum king's return, Alberto must have stayed behind here in Prague. He found out about the other changelings' deaths via communication lines, not because he'd seen it.

He didn't know anything about the battle against Gunmar, or Morgana's rise, the fall of the Darklands… or the familiars' liberation.

Panic chilled Walter. Barbara – He couldn't lead Alberto to her and the children! He yanked Alberto's sword from the wall and flung it out the window, then raced in the opposite direction, trying to buy himself some time.

Alberto rushed to retrieve his weapon.

Walter made it to the exit on the other side of the warehouse, but as he stepped outside, he gasped. The gray light of early morning blanketed the ground. The sun was about to rise.

He sprinted for cover as an enraged shout followed him. "Stricklander!"

Walter couldn't stop. He darted from wall to shadowed ground, catching every patch of darkness that remained. Walter screamed in pain as the first rays of sunlight broke over the building he'd just ducked behind, catching one of his clawed feet. He thrust himself into the deepest shadow he could find – that of a balcony directly overhead. He glanced across the street only to see Alberto, stuck in the shadow of a building opposite him.

Walter eyed the other troll as a thin wall of sunrise separated them. Alberto hissed, stretching out an arm toward Walter, but he screeched in pain, forced to retreat into the shadows again.

The trolls stared at each other menacingly, then Walter ducked into the building, hoping to find a shadowed exit on the other side, or a passage down to the sewers. Behind him he heard another enraged shout, "Stricklander! STRICKLANDER!"

Wisely, Walter decided to ignore it. He pulled out his phone and dialed the one number he never had difficulty remembering. It was picked up on the first ring.

"Walt!" Barbara answered. "You're not in the car, and the sun – Do you need me to pick you up? Where are you?" she asked.

"Barbara, listen to me," Walter instructed. "I need you to continue to the next destination alone."

"What?" Barbara asked. "Why? What's happening?"

"Don't worry. I'll meet up with you." He swallowed hard. "Somehow. If worse comes to worst, I can fly," he reminded her.

"But… I don't understand," said Barbara. "Tell me what's going on!"

"I have a pursuer," Walter admitted. "Another troll. He wants me dead."

"What?" Barbara asked. "Why?"

"Don't act so surprised. There are a lot of trolls who want me dead," Walter replied. "I am a former servant of Gunmar after all, and some trolls don't have much affection for changelings. This troll will not let me out of his sight for long, and I don't feel like bringing him to you, so just – Please, stay safe!" he pleaded. "Get to the next city and wait. I'll either call and tell you where to go next, or I'll come to you."

"Walt..." Barbara whispered. "Just… be careful, alright?"

"Of course," Walter replied softly. "You too… Barbara."

"Walter, I –" Barbara hesitated. "Never mind. Just come back to me safely."

"Of course, I will," Walter assured. "I promised not to leave you, didn't I? So just get to the next stop and wait for me. I'll be there." At the sound of footsteps, he jerked his attention back to his predicament. "I'm sorry. I have to go; I hear humans approaching."

"Walt –"

Walter ended the call and silenced the phone, cutting Barbara off. He slid into an alcove, just barely avoiding a human woman entering the room. To his relief, she left again within a few seconds, giving Walter time to look around. He made it to the other side of the house and crawled out an open window. The shadow of the house still extended across the street. Then he saw it – a manhole. Safety was within his reach, at least for now.

Walter disappeared down into the dark sewers, heading away from Barbara. He hoped he could get out of the city by sundown and that Alberto wouldn't track him down.

It was a foolish hope, really. Trolls had a very keen sense of smell, and since Walter was the only other troll here, his scent would stand out. That was probably how Alberto found him in the first place. Still, he had to keep going; he had to shake off Alberto.

Making it back to Barbara was all that mattered.


	20. For her

Walter sat near the top of a tall tree, peering into the darkness to get a feel for the terrain. He growled, annoyed that he still hadn't shaken Alberto.

The infamous bad weather of Europe picked the wrong time to disappear. The night was clear and cloudless, and the moon shone brightly. If he took wing now, Alberto would surely see him.

The blue-skinned troll had proven relentless in his pursuit of Walter, and he growled at the thought of the young changeling, still lurking much too close for his liking.

If he could find just one thick cloud to use for cover, he could fly away unseen, leaving Alberto safely behind. But to fly on such a pristine night wasn't worth the risk. Any human out this late, armed with a cellphone camera could snap a picture or catch video of him. Becoming a YouTube celebrity wasn't something Walter wanted – especially not like this.

All he could do now was keep sending messages to Barbara asking her to continue without him while he went in the opposite direction. Every night he hoped for rain, clouds, a storm – anything that might provide enough cover for him to fly back to Barbara without being tracked.

Not being able to move during daylight hours made him even more anxious.

He narrowed his eyes at the cloudless sky and hissed at it, frustrated. Just one cloud – that was all he asked for. Yet none appeared.

Walter sighed and snatched a quick glance down at his phone. He could almost feel Barbara's frustrations emanating through it. On the screen was written the same message he'd sent her too many nights in a row, "Go on without me." It pained him to send it again, but he had to keep Barbara out of this.

Walter let out a low, frustrated growl and sent the message.

 

* * *

 

 

Barbara hated this – being out on her own, not knowing what was happening to Walter. The only consolation she had were his text messages and his explicit instructions not to call him, so he could preserve precious battery life. Barbara knew it was also to keep her from giving away his location – if unintentionally.

She paced between two trees outside their parked van, waiting to hear something from Walter. The night was clear and crisp, and she pulled her jacket around her a little tighter.

Emil was fussy tonight, so she took him out of the cradle stone for a while. She made sure he was bundled up enough to shield him from the chilly night air. Right now, he was laying quietly on a low boulder several feet away, watching the leaves falling from a nearby tree.

Her phone buzzed.

Here it was again, the same infuriating message. The only variation was the name of the city. "I won't be able to meet you in Liberec. You should go to the next stop. I shall attempt to meet you there."

Barbara fought the urge to slam her phone down. Nothing! This was a whole lot of nothing! At least Jim was nice enough to text her some details of what was going on – well, when she finally forced him to text her.

Were all men like this? Getting into trouble and refusing to tell her about it?

She shot back an angry reply, "What's happening?!" No response.

Maybe Walter turned his phone off again to save power.

Barbara fought back another surge of worry. Walter wouldn't do this if he didn't have a good reason. He wouldn't abandon her in a strange country where she couldn't even communicate with the locals well enough to ask where the closest gas station was.

"Walt..." she breathed, looking hopelessly at the phone as if another text would magically appear. "Where are you?" she asked. "What's happening to you?"

A distressed wail broke into Barbara's thoughts and she pocketed her cell.

"Emil." Barbara pushed back the anxiety knotting in her throat and sat down beside her adopted son. "I know. I know, sweetheart. I'm worried about him too." She scooped up the little boy, holding him just a little tighter as she fought back tears.

Her phone vibrated. Her heart rose in her throat as she whipped it back out. It was the first time she was disappointed to see a text from Jim. It wasn't anything particularly special, just something about him watching a new Netflix show on a laptop they'd scrounged.

She sighed. At least they were still fine.

Her pulse beat in her ears as she stared at the phone for a long time, rocking Emil.

Knowing Jim was doing well afforded her a measure of comfort. She took the time to ask what the show was called and if it was worth checking out.

Jim replied that it was okay, but kind of boring, though Blinky seemed fascinated with it.

After a few more texts back and forth with Jim, Barbara felt a little more at ease, but a nagging dread still gnawed at her.

The wind whistled through the trees, sending a chill through her that Emil's tiny warmth couldn't lessen. She was… afraid – so deathly afraid that something terrible had happened to Walter.

 

* * *

 

Eight days after his first encounter with Alberto, Walter finally had his chance to escape. The grey sky brooded over the countryside. Heavy clouds hung low, threatening a storm.

The conditions were perfect. All Walter had to do was wait for nightfall. He would have left as soon as the cloudbanks rolled in, but he didn't want to risk flying into a sunny patch.

He was glad he'd been able to lead Alberto this far away from Barbara. By now, they were well South of Linz. The other changeling didn't have a clue what Walter's true mission was, but, then again, Alberto didn't seem to care about anything but revenge.

Walter made good use of the cloudy day, searching out the highest altitude he could find. The cliff he scaled was unforgiving, forcing him to dig into the stone with his taloned hands and feet.

His escape was so close he could almost taste the frigid, wet air above. Yet, the sun still hung stubbornly above the horizon.

"You coward! Stop running and face me!"

Walter froze. He looked back down the precipice and saw Alberto starting up the cliff after him. Rage and frustration spurred him up the rock face faster.

"You can't get away," Alberto shouted.

If only Alberto knew how untrue his words were. All Walter had to do was spread his wings and fly off but doing so could reveal to the world the existence of troll-kind. Walter wasn't willing to risk that. Alberto had already demonstrated on multiple occasions that he didn't harbor the same inhibition. Even now, his voice echoed through the entire valley below.

Walter was relieved when lighting flashed, and the crash of thunder drowned out Alberto's screech.

Walter leapt for another handhold farther up the cliff.

"ARGGGHHH!" Alberto bellowed. "Why won't you fight me?"

"Because." Walter gritted his teeth. "If I did, one of us would have to die." He leapt into the air, unfurled his wings and with a mighty thrust, propelled himself up the last dozen feet of rock, landing on the edge of the sheer. He strained his eyes East where the sun's silhouette still loomed through the clouds.

It was too risky to make a run for it. He cursed the slowly sinking sun. Walter faced the edge of the cliff and waited, knowing Alberto would make it to the top before the sun set.

Perhaps this was his final chance to talk some sense into the young changeling, even if he had to do so by force. Walter slid a knife out of his bladed collar.

Minutes later a blue claw reached over the lip of the rock face, scraping the stone with an insufferable whine. Alberto vaulted up over the edge and with a roar, flung himself at Walter.

"You're stubborn. I have to give you that," Walter sneered as he leapt out of the way. "What do you wish to accomplish by doing this? Has someone promised you a reward? Or are you doing this just for your own entertainment?"

The shing of metal rang in Walter's ears as Alberto drew his dagger. "Sometimes gain isn't all that matters," Alberto bit back. "I wouldn't expect you to understand. You never cared for anyone."

Walter fought back an impassioned retort. He narrowed his eyes at the other changeling instead. "Try me," he challenged. "You intend to kill me, so at least do me the courtesy of telling me why you feel it so necessary to take my life."

Alberto stood tall as another flash of lightning lit up the sky behind him, followed by a boom of thunder. "Does the name… Ponderosa Pendersøn, Rosa Peterson, mean anything to you?" he snarled.

Walter blinked, trying to remember the name. When he didn't, he frowned. "You will have to be a bit more specific than that."

"Her troll form was a slender, light gray. She had long yellow hair and mesmerizing golden eyes. When she took human form, her hair shone pale blonde, and her eyes twinkled the clearest blue," Alberto's eyes grew glassy.

Walter stood in shock as the wind picked up and rain pattered down around him.

"She – she made it all worthwhile," Alberto choked. "She kept reminding me that when Gunmar was set free we'd be free too." Tears rolled down Alberto's face, blending with the rain drops as they dripped off his stony skin. "Then we could have a life together – just me and Rosa!" he wailed. "Now she's dead! Along with everybody else. Why?" he demanded. "Why did she have to die? We both served Gunmar faithfully; she did nothing wrong."

Walter shifted uneasily as the young changeling's passion rose.

"It's because of you!" Alberto shouted. "You didn't follow Gunmar's orders! You ruined everything!" He made another wild lunge for Walter, missing by an embarrassing margin.

"Five hundred years…" Alberto hissed. "That's how long I kept my head down, following every order I was given. I played my part, and I hated it. I hated it all. But it was worth it… if one day Rosa and I could be free." Alberto's dagger flashed as it caught the flicker of another bolt of lightning. "Then, we could start over." He glared hard at Walter, "But now there's nothing for me to live for. I might as well die right here on this forsaken patch of ground." Alberto's gaze dropped from Walter to the rain-slicked stone, then shot back up as Alberto declared, "But I'm not dying unless I can take you with me!" He pointed his dagger at Walter's heart.

Walter gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached. "Just listen to me! Things are different now. Gunmar is no more. He was felled by the hand of the Trollhunter."

Alberto drew back in surprise. "What?" He narrowed his eyes at Walter. "You're lying!"

"It's true. You have my word." Walter raised his hands to convey the veracity of his statement. "There was a great battle. The Trollhunter slew Gunmar, and the Darklands fell," said Walter. "Do you realize what that means? Gunmar is gone from this world. You're free! It's not too late to begin again. Trollmarket is accepting changelings as their own kin now. Nomura is with them, and another. I can bring you there too," he offered. "Now we know there are at least four changelings left. Perhaps there are more, I don't know. But… while we still live there are ways to begin anew, brother."

"Full of pretty words as usual," Alberto scoffed. "Always playing the part of the kind leader so people will like you," he sneered. "Yet you lurk in the shadows and stab them in the back when they become a nuisance. I've seen you do it too many times."

"What could I possibly gain from lying to you now?" Walter asked. "You're right. I have betrayed many… But now there is no Janus Order to control – no Gunmar to placate. I am… alone. There is naught to be gained by lying."

This gave Alberto pause. "Lying or not," he hissed. "It doesn't really matter… I can't live like this – not without her," he managed. "Besides, you deserve to die, and you know it," he asserted, eyes full of rage.

"I… don't disagree." Walter let his arms fall to his sides, guilt and shame washing over him as the rain pelted down harder. "But I cannot let you take my life… not now." He raised his knife again.

"Then fight," Alberto said. "FIGHT!" he roared as he charged Walter, weapon raised high.

The trolls clashed, claws and teeth ripping at each other in a fight more vicious than Walter could remember. Even when he'd faced Gunmar's horde with Nomura and Jim's friends he hadn't fought this hard. There was no grace or sophistication about this bestial engagement. It was primal – brutal.

As darkness spread around them, Walter realized the sun's rays no longer threatened him. His chance had arrived.

Alberto kicked Walter hard and he rolled away from the other changeling, taking the opportunity to leap from the cliff, wings outstretched.

"No!" Alberto screamed, flinging himself into the air and just catching Walter's ankle. "I will not let you go until I have my revenge!" he shouted, clinging to Walter.

"Let go of me!" Walter kicked at Alberto with his other foot. "Find a new life. Do whatever else you like but let me go!" he pleaded as his wings carried him upwards.

"No, never. You're going to pay, Stricklander! I'll make you pay!" Alberto's claws dug into Walter's leg.

Walter hissed in pain as he soared higher, trying to shake the other troll, but Alberto's grip didn't weaken, even when they broke through the clouds.

Alberto scrambled for a better hold. His claws sank in, tearing through Walter's back, eliciting an agonized shriek.

"We are going to die together!" Alberto yelled as the two plummeted toward the ground.

Pain ripped through Walter as they tumbled through the sky, struggling in midair as Alberto used his dagger to dig into Walter, clambering up onto his back. Panic fueled Walter as he fought off Alberto, managing to shift the other troll's weight enough so he could try one more time to be rid of his attacker.

Walter surged up through the clouds again, but Alberto held on.

The flash of Alberto's blade caught Walter's eye and just as the other changeling was about to stab the weapon into Walter's back, he cut a sharp turn, sending Alberto slipping off.

Walter yelped as one of Alberto's claws dug into his side. It was the only opening Walter was going to get. He grabbed Alberto's hand and tore it away, heedless of the chunk of stone that was basically his skin that came away with it.

The young changeling's claws, slick with rain, slipped right out of Walter's grasp, in fact Walt hadn't even hold on to Albertos claw at all but let it go.

Alberto screamed as he plummeted back down through the clouds, only by the sound of Albertos scream did Walter realise what he had just done and reacted.

At ones Walter dove after him, but he couldn't see. The clouds were too thick, and Alberto's echoing cry vanished amidst the rain and thunder.

Walter broke out of the clouds and caught sight of the line of trees below. Alberto was nowhere to be seen. He gritted his teeth, a sick feeling gripping his gut. He knew he should stop – look for Alberto, but he couldn't stay. He had to get back to Barbara.

Fighting was Alberto's choice, not his. Walter tore his eyes away from the forest below and soared back up into the clouds. Only then did he realize he wasn't flying straight.

He righted himself, only to veer off course a second later. Burning pain seared through his back and into one wing, sending jolts of agony through him with every movement.

He knew he should stop – wait for some of his wounds to heal, but Barbara was waiting for him, and he'd left her alone for far too long.

He headed North fleeing the site of the pitiful war he'd been forced to wage.

With every beat of his wings he reminded himself that he was heading back to Barbara, and no matter how much pain he had to endure to do it, he would get back to her.


	21. Behind the lie, lies the truth

Barbara's phone buzzed for attention, startling her out of the first half-way decent patch of sleep she'd had since Walter disappeared back in Prague. She groaned and rubbed her eyes, yawning as she pulled out her cell.

She shot upright in bed when she saw the name on the screen. "Walt!" She held the phone to her ear.

A pained wheeze rattled through the receiver followed by a desperate gasp for air. "Barbara…?"

"Walt…? Are you okay? What happened?" Barbara asked, worry gripping her.

"I… I managed to get rid of my pursuer," Walter said. "I'm alright."

"You don't sound alright," Barbara countered. "Where are you?"

"I… I…" Walter's voice grew distant as he leaned away from the receiver to hide a sharp cough. He struggled to speak the rest of the sentence, "I managed to find shelter under a bridge. The water pipeline – I am in there." He covered another sickening hack and subsequent gulp of air.

"Where is that bridge?" Barbara prodded, fear threatening to throw her into panic. She pushed away the urge to cry. If being a doctor taught her one thing, it was that fear was the enemy of effectiveness. She had to stay calm.

"East of the city you're in," Walter managed. "It's a bridge for cars – on a country road… I think the areas close by are corn fields. Sheep – not too far away." He let out a muffled groan. "The water in the river – it looks clear." He chuckled, bringing on another sharp bark. "That's kind of surprising – now that I think about it."

Barbara swallowed the lump in her throat and swiped at her burning eyes. It wasn't like Walter to give such vague directions. In fact, she wondered if he knew where he was, or was just guessing.

"It's okay," she assured him. "I'll find you. Just stay where you are." She knew the answer before she asked the question, "Are you hurt? Do I need to bring you anything?"

"Barbara, you should know human medicines aren't effective on trolls, as we are not made of flesh," Walter rasped between breaths. "Don't worry I'll be fine. I'm not that seriously hurt."

"That's not true, and I know it!" Barbara exclaimed. "When I get to you, you are going to tell me what happened. Do you hear me?" The tears she'd tried to push back welled up, but she managed to keep her voice even. "And don't you even dare move from that spot."

A soft laugh sounded from the other end, punctuated by a muted yelp. "I wouldn't even dare," he replied. "I'm glad you're okay."

"You're a stupid idiot," she scolded. "I'm not the one who sounds like he's dying." She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "I'm glad you're okay too… Even if 'okay' seems a very loose term right now. I'll be there as soon as I can. Hang tight, Walt."

Walter wheezed, "I'll wait for you."

Barbara sighed shakily. "See you soon." She started to hang up but waited for another moment as Walter breathed heavily into the phone. He was alive… but her experienced ears told her he was not alright. She comforted herself in the knowledge that he wasn't locked in deadly combat, and though she wasn't with him for the moment, he wasn't truly alone.

She clicked the red "call end" button. "You're not going to lay out in the middle of nowhere to die, you stubborn idiot." She bit her lip, tearing up again.

In minutes Barbara was speeding down the road, keeping an eye out for corn fields and sleeping sheep. The few possessions she brought with her into the B&B jostled around in the back seat as she stuffed her wallet, less the money she owed her host, into her purse, hastily thrown into the passenger seat.

She checked the clock on the dash. It was four in the morning.

Darkness encompassed the countryside. Thick clouds blocked out the moonlight, and the sparse street lights did nothing to aid her search. Anxiety roiled in Barbara's stomach as her eyes darted from one side of the road to the other. She hoped with everything in her that she would stumble upon that bridge soon.

Barbara watched the minutes tick by too quickly as she managed to find a stream and follow it. Every bridge she crossed she checked, but none of them harbored Walter. The sun was just beginning to lighten the sky when she started to think she'd passed him – gone too far North. She was just about to backtrack when she spied a second river up ahead.

The sun peaked out over the horizon, it's golden rays lighting up the sky in brilliant shades of pink and orange. Soft yellow light painted the nearby fields in an inviting glow. That was when she saw them. Sheep! And in an adjacent field, rows of corn stood tall, their neat lines making Barbara a little dizzy as she watched them fly by out the window.

Within two minutes she came upon a bridge. This was it. It had to be.

Barbara slammed on the brakes and pulled over, tucking her vehicle as far out of sight of the road as she could. She sprang out of the car, flinging the bag with the cradle stone over her shoulder as she ran under the bridge.

Just as Walter said, a water pipe jutted out from beneath the construct, a stream pouring out of it.

Barbara crawled into the wide pipe. "Walt!" she called into the darkness.

No response.

Barbara's chest tightened as she hurried farther inside, calling out again, "Walt!"

The pipe widened into a tunnel and she straightened, now able to walk upright in the culvert. She tried to stay out of the water, but she couldn't see well enough to avoid it, and her shoes swished in the current, soaking through.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she caught a glimpse of something moving just ahead. She trekked a bit farther down the pipe. Then she saw him, laying on a little dry patch near the edge of the pipe. He was sprawled out face-up, wings, legs and arms limp, his eyes closed.

"Walt!" Barbara cried as she ran to him. "Oh no… Walt!" She fell to her knees and shook him by the shoulders, trying to rouse him. "Are you okay? What happened?!"

Walter's eyes cracked open, glowing yellow-green in the dark. He looked up at Barbara and she caught the faint smile on his face. "You're safe," he rasped. "Thank God."

"Don't worry about me. Are you hurt?" Barbara asked quickly looking him over. "You're in pain. Tell me where it hurts; I'll look at it," she insisted.

Walter shook his head, catching one of her hands with his own. "I'm fine – I'm just…. Exhausted," he whispered.

"And your pursuer?" Barbara asked, wide-eyed. "Is he –?"

"I'm – not sure," Walter replied. "I… I didn't want to kill him, but he left me no choice."

Barbara swallowed hard.

"I'm not sure he's dead," Walter drew in a sharp breath. "When I tried to fly away he grabbed me… I tried to make him let go. I flew high – so high then I – I dropped him," he said.

Barbara watched as Walter inhaled another unsteady breath.

"How high up?" she asked.

"Above the clouds," Walt admitted, looking at Barbara with eyes so full of pain it shook Barbara to look at them. Walter continued, "He – He was a – changeling."

Barbara covered her mouth to stifle a gasp. "But… I don't understand. Why would a changeling want to kill you?"

"Because I betrayed Gunmar. He blames me for all their deaths. And maybe he's right, I don't know," Walter managed. "Maybe if I hadn't betrayed Gunmar he wouldn't have taken it out on all the changelings. Maybe Alberto – was right! But I… I…" He groaned.

"Walt." Barbara took hold of his shoulders again. "Stop. Look at me," she instructed. He hesitantly did as she said, letting her see the agony written in his eyes. "Be honest with me." She held his gaze steadily. "If you had acted differently – done what Gunmar wanted…. Would it have made a difference?"

Walter opened his mouth then hesitated. "I… don't know," he admitted. "But it seems very unlikely."

"You did everything you could," Barbara assured him, taking his hand again. "You cared about them; I saw it myself. You spent days without sleep building a tomb for them. If there was anything at all that could possibly be done to save them, I know you would have done it – no matter what it costed you."

Walter nodded slowly, managing to haul himself up into a sitting position. "I…couldn't –" Without warning, he leaned into Barbara, wrapped his arms around her and shook as he wept for all the lives he couldn't bring back – all his brothers and sister he couldn't save.

"It's alright," Barbara hugged him tightly, adding her tears to his as she whispered again, "It's alright. I've got you."

"I don't understand you, Barbara," Walter choked.

"What is it you don't understand?" Barbara asked.

"You… You're so kind. So – forgiving, you and Jim. I don't understand you – either of you," Walter said, voice still unsteady. "How can you forgive me?" he asked, still clinging to Barbara.

Barbara's heart reached out to him as she searched for the right words. When she found them, she whispered in his ear, "I forgave you… Because I thought you were worth forgiving." She hugged him closer, feeling his warmth as he draped one wing around her.

"How can you say that so easily?" Walter asked. "You don't know what I've done – the lives I've taken in cold-blood – the men and women I've ruined – all for my own gain."

Barbara sucked in an unsteady breath, "I – I know." She stifled a sob. "I know you've done some awful things – horrible even, but… I know you did what you felt you had to do – what you felt was right. Isn't that true?" she asked, tearing up again.

"Not always what I thought was right," Walter admitted, his claws running through her hair – which she'd forgotten to put up in her rush to find him this morning. "But always what I had to do. Alberto – I had to do it. I had to!" he mourned. "He left me no choice – I didn't want to do it."

"I know," Barbara whispered. "I know…"

"But I… I dropped him and didn't even stop to see if he was alright – not really…" Walter's wing stiffened as he wept.

Barbara didn't say anything, instead she let Walter mourn for the brother he'd been forced to lose. She knew he felt like Alberto's blood was on his hands, but she couldn't blame him for what happened. From what little she knew of the encounter, Walter hadn't had a good option to choose, so he took the slimmest evil he could find.

Walter's chest heaved with both sorrow and pain. Barbara smoothed a hand over his back, feeling the rivets in it. Some were part of his markings, but others she didn't remember. Deep grooves bit into him, almost like – like something mauled him.

"Did… He do this…? That other changeling?" Barbara asked, gently fingering the ugly slashes as she held on to Walter.

She felt him nodding, but he didn't say anything as he shook in her arms. When he finally drew back, he looked even more exhausted than before.

Barbara eased Walter back down onto the floor. She tried to spot the source of his pain but couldn't pinpoint it. Trolls didn't bruise like humans. They didn't even bleed when cut. The only time she'd seen Walter bleed was when he'd shifted to his human form after Angor Rot slashed him the night Vendel broke the binding spell.

She realized there were cuts all over Walter – not just on his back, but on his arms, legs, his face, but she'd already felt the worst ones.

With a groan Walter struggled to sit up again. "Forgive me… We should move on," he rasped. "The mission –"

"No," Barbara said firmly. "Not right now. You need to rest." She gently pushed him back down.

"But..." Walt protested.

"No but's," Barbara cut him off. "I'm a doctor," she reminded. "If a patient doesn't heal properly it'll come back to bite them later, so lay still," she said firmly, then in a softer tone added, "Rest."

Walter stopped objecting and gave in to his exhaustion.

He was so still it frightened Barbara for a moment. She held her hand above his face and felt the soft touch of his breath. His chest still rose and fell, but much more slowly than she was used to.

She withdrew her hand and sighed in deep relief. He was alright… That was all that mattered.

Barbara shifted the cradle stone around in front of her and sat down on the cold metal. She looked back the way she'd come. Morning light crept in from outside. It had to be past seven or eight by now. For a moment she sat speculating what she should do about Walter. She couldn't take him out to the van. Even if the sun wasn't up, she doubted she could lift him, much less drag him back through the pipe entrance. She hated to say it, but she knew they had to stay put for now.

With not a few backward glances she got up and ventured back out to the van. She grabbed a blanket and pillow, stuffing them into a trash bag to keep them dry, and trekked back through the water pipe.

She sat down beside Walter again and unpacked the bedding. She lifted Walter's head and tucked the pillow under him, then spread the blanket over his still form. He didn't move once.

A bought of dizziness hit her and she shook her head, bracing one arm against the floor to keep from falling. She blinked hard, trying to shake off her weariness. She hadn't slept well – or at all some nights – since Walter left. She knew the feeling all too well – exhaustion.

Barbara held the cradle stone close as she watched Walter sleep. Even with his horns, claws, and fangs, right now he looked incredibly vulnerable.

She scooted a little closer to him and touched his near shoulder, feeling more of Alberto's claw marks as tears rolled down her cheeks. She let out a shaky yawn and lay down next to Walter, tucking the protected cradle stone between her stomach and his side.

She closed her eyes, remembering the day Walter came back into her life – when she'd remembered everything… about trolls, about Jim being the Trollhunter. She'd forced Claire, and Toby to tell their families what was going on – standing in the middle of Barbara's living room.

The two hadn't wanted to reveal any of it – even invented some story about LARPing to pass off their strange behavior. Finally, Jim convinced them to come clean. Claire's parents and Toby's grandmother had so many questions it made Barbara's head swim. She had questions herself – some of which Jim hadn't been able to answer. That was when he asked if he could call someone else to help explain what was going on.

Barbara had agreed without thinking about who exactly Jim would be calling. Within the hour… he was there, standing on her doorstep.

Walter's clear, green eyes shone with uncertainty. Barbara didn't know what to think of him. She'd only seen glimpses of his other self. To think that this calm-looking man standing at her door was… something else… It was hard to believe – harder than believing her son was a troll-slaying hero.

The others were equally surprised as Walter stepped into the room. The Nuñezs gaped at him. Toby's Nana paused, a cookie half-way to her mouth.

"Mr. Strickler?" Ophelia Nuñez asked, taken aback. "You have something to do with this?"

"He's one of them –" Jim supplied, "a troll."

"What?!" Both Nuñezs and Nana exclaimed.

Nana dropped her cookie.

Barbara tensed.

"That can't be true!" Javier Nuñez blurted, pointing straight at Walter. "He's my little girl's history teacher!"

"Was, Mr. Nuñez," Walter corrected.

Barbara noticed again how smoothly he spoke, almost as if his voice were made of velvet.

Walter continued, "And Jim speaks the truth. Though I am no ordinary troll… I am still a troll."

He turned his gaze to Barbara, and for a second, their eyes met, then Walter forced his attention back to the other adults. He bowed his head. In a flash of light, Walter transformed. Instead of the well-bred academic, in his place stood a troll, moss-green with shining yellow eyes.

Everyone was silent, staring at Walter until he changed back into his human form. He slipped a hand through his hair, catching a renegade strand and putting it back in its place as if nothing happened.

This was the first time Barbara had seen him clearly. Before now, whenever he'd changed, it was without her present, and she'd never been able to get a good look at his other form in the dark. The only thing she'd clearly seen were his glowing eyes. She'd caught glimpses of him the night Angor Rot attacked, but she'd been too shocked to really notice much of anything.

"You –" Ophelia gasped, hand flying to her mouth. "You're not human!"

"Now do you understand?" Walter asked. "This goes far beyond an isolated event. Deep below the surface of Arcadia live hundreds of trolls. They've lived here for far longer than you've been alive. Before you were born – before this town was ever founded, they waged wars more brutal than any humans have ever known," he said. Then with a disarming smile – one Barbara knew too well – he settled the three gawkers into an easy calm.

Seeing him work his magic on someone else made her realize how terrifyingly good Walter was at manipulating an audience.

Jim, Claire and Toby left to find Merlin's Tomb, promising to text often. Blinky and AAARRRGGHH! scooted out behind the teens.

"Now," Walter crossed his arms and came to stand with the rest of the group. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine," he said in that reassuring, slightly cheerful tone. Immediately the listeners relaxed, then he guided them into a lighter subject.

Barbara gaped at them. Within minutes Walter had gone from announcing a dire situation to chatting casually with her three guests. She watched as he held them all in the palm of his hand. He laughed at exactly the right times, assumed the correct expressions, and spoke in that soft, soothing way. They all ate it right up.

Barbara fumed inside. She didn't know what to think of Walter anymore. Here he stood, blatantly manipulating every nuance of the conversation. Had he manipulated her this entire time too?

With Jim off on an excursion to find Merlin, being forced to stand here and watch Walter amuse himself with the other parents lit her temper. How dare he do this – stand around in her house behaving like it was his?

She took the empty cookie plate from Nana and sequestered herself away in the kitchen, occupying her mind with shoving tray after tray of easy-bake chocolate chip cookies into the oven. She scooped them onto fresh plates and took them out to the four now seated on her couch. A curious, little, green troll with brown scruff now sat with them.

She sighed, not even bothering to ask and set the cookies down before going back to the kitchen.

She pulled out her phone and stared at it, waiting for a text from her son, or one of the other kids.

Hours passed. Barbara ventured out into the living room often enough to pick up the empty cookie plates. The conversation turned to the teens' silence and Ophelia especially was worried that something had happened to them.

Barbara retreated to the kitchen with the last of the dishes and dug out a big bowl. She ripped open a bag of ready-made popcorn. Dumping the contents into the bowl, she snagged a piece and absently ate it.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, staving off a headache. With a sigh, she pulled out her phone again. "Nothing…"

The door squealed open and in stepped Walter.

"Barbara –"

"You're the last person I want to talk to," she cut him off.

"You're doing an excellent job of maintaining calm. If anyone has the capacity to survive the unknown, it's Jim."

His assurance fell on deaf ears.

Officer Scott showed up at her door a moment later. When he accidentally caught a glimpse of Blinky's brother, Dictatious lurking in the stairwell, the group was forced to maintain an elaborate hoax, pretending to be gathered for a play rehearsal. The momentary distraction – coupled with the opportunity to smack Walter with a broom handle several times – made her feel a little better, at least until the Nuñezs and Nana had to leave, and she was left alone with Walter again.

It was awkward, to say the least, as the two stood in the semi-darkness of her living room, each trying not to look at the other and failing miserably.

Barbara folded her arms and glared at Walter. "You used me!" she spat.

Walter looked away. "Yes…"

"You used me to hurt Jim!" Barbara's eyes lit with anger.

Walter glanced at her, then looked away again. "Yes…"

"And you're not even denying it?" Barbara asked.

"No," Walter replied.

Barbara slapped him so hard the sound echoed through the entire house.

Walter winced and finally faced her.

"So, what are you doing here?" Barbara demanded. "Why did you come back?"

"To help Jim," Walter said.

"Why?" Barbara asked.

"He's not strong enough to face Gunmar. If he doesn't make some improvements he'll die," Walter said without ceremony.

"And why would you care?" Barbara poked a finger in Walter's face. "You tried to kill him."

Walter said nothing to that, but his pleading green eyes begged her to understand. For a moment, Barbara could have sworn they shone yellow, their true color.

"Show me," Barbara instructed, hands on his hips.

"What?" Walter blinked in surprise.

"I said, 'Show me.'!" Barbara shouted. "You know what I'm talking about."

Walter sighed, head low. He looked up at her as his human guise fell away, replaced with his true form.

Barbara stared at him, her arms falling to her sides. "So, this is what you really are, Walt?" she asked.

"Yes…" Walter replied. Even with the one word reply it was easy to hear his voice had become different to, the soft velvet tone now rough and simple.

Barbara held back the bitter words she wanted to hurl at him and instead asked quietly, "Was anything you told me true?"

Walter looked away.

"You don't want to answer that, do you?" Barbara snapped. "Is it because you know you can't manipulate me anymore?"

"I have no desire to manipulate you," Walter whispered.

"You're just telling me what I want to hear," Barbara asserted.

Walter turned his pained eyes to her. "This is what I really am. I am over a millennium old, and for those thousand years I served the one you know as Gunmar. I was his servant, and I did whatever he asked me to do. If he instructed me to kill an enemy, it was my honor to follow his command. If he told me to eat nothing but rats for a year, I would grovel before him to show my thanks. He wanted the Trollhunter, so I gave him the Trollhunter." Walter couldn't look at her after he said that. "Now I am a traitor. I've allied with those most likely to enable me to fulfill my goals. I've sided with Jim."

"And what goals are those?" Barbara raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Walter looked amused at her question. He shifted back into his human form, shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head. "You needn't concern yourself with that. Rest assured though, I will not harm Jim, nor any of his friends. If you cannot take my word, I hope you'll at least believe his. He would not bring me here if he didn't think it was safe, now would he?" he asked.

Barbara hesitated. It was hard to argue with that; Jim was very protective of her. He would never have left her with Walter if he didn't think it was safe.

"I should leave." Walter started for the door. "If anything happens, please call me. You do still have my number, don't you?"

"Unfortunately," Barbara muttered.

Walter nodded. "Good night then." He stepped into the hallway and reached for the door but stopped before he opened it. "Barbara… what I said the other day, that I just wanted to see you… That wasn't a lie." He met her gaze and said without pretense, "I'm… glad I was able to see you again."

Barbara stood speechless as Walter left, the click of the closing door lingering in the darkness.

 

 

So much had happened since that night. Now, Barbara lay on the cold ground next to the changeling. She shifted closer until she could feel the heat radiating from him. She held the cradle stone close, nestling it comfortably between them.

It was impossible to ignore her fatigue any longer. She tucked herself under the edge of the blanket she'd brought for Walter, laying as close to him as she dared. Not knowing the extent of his wounds made her afraid to touch him any more than she already had for fear of making his injuries worse.

Her thoughts all jumbled into one as she fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.


	22. The dream

Barbara groaned as she opened her eyes. Her head, shoulders, back – everything ached. Where was she?

She looked around and saw nothing but darkness. Water trickled behind her and her clothes were damp.

Then Barbara remembered, the bridge – the pipeline. Walt!

She bolted upright, expecting Walter to be right beside her. But his spot was empty. Barbara realized she was now the one laying on the pillow she'd brought for Walter, and the blanket was draped over her.

"Walt?" she called out.

There was no answer.

It was pitch black inside the culvert. The sun was down by now, so Walter must have gone out. She told herself it wasn't odd for him to go out. He was probably feeling restless after sleeping for so long.

She got up, packed everything away in the trash bag and crawled out of the pipe, cursing every aching bone and muscle in her body.

Barbara managed to find her way back out to the vehicle, but Walter wasn't there. She stowed the bedding in the trunk and the cradle stone in the backseat before looking for Walter.

"Walt," she called into the night. There was no answer. Barbara dialed his cell number and was rewarded with a vibrating sound coming from the inside the van. She climbed in and found his phone hooked up to the power bank in the back seat.

If his phone was here, he couldn't be far away, but the thought of him up and walking around didn't sit well with her. When she found him this morning he looked badly wounded. Surely, he hadn't healed that quickly.

She checked the time on her cell – one in the morning.

She sighed and set out to look for Walter. He had limited options if he wanted to remain unseen. The road wasn't a likely choice; the corn fields seemed a safer bet, so she headed toward them, occasionally calling Walter's name.

Still no answer.

Barbara moved further into the field. Nearly fifteen minutes in she heard something. The sound was hard to make out, so she went to investigate. The closer she got, the less pleasant the noise became. It reminded her of a large animal devouring a carcass.

A loud crunch made her wince and the ensuing trail of messy racket sent a chill down her spine. She wanted to stop and turn around, afraid she'd come upon a wolf… or something bigger.

Against her better judgment, she continued toward the sound. She pulled back a stalk of corn and her stomach twisted as she saw exactly who she'd been looking for, except he was neck-deep in a slaughtered sheep.

The animal was torn open, guts and blood strewn everywhere. Its insides still steamed – a fresh kill. Hot blood streaked Walter's face and chest, and his claws were covered in gore. He dug into the dead animal, biting out a huge chunk of raw meat and swallowing it. The sight made Barbara's already queasy gut want to hurl. She covered her mouth, trying to push back the urge to vomit.

At that moment, Walter froze. He looked up from his kill, face still covered in blood, a piece of raw meat hanging out of his mouth. When his eyes found Barbara, they shot wide.

Barbara's feet felt like they were glued to the ground. She wanted to say something but didn't know what. Walter's expression shifted from one of surprise to horrified pain as he hid his face with his blood-soaked claws and turned away from her.

Barbara shook. "It... It's okay." She failed to hide the quiver in her voice. "You have to eat, just like anyone else, and you're still healing… so you need something substantial to sustain you… right?" she asked.

Walter spread a wing over the dead sheep, hiding it from her view.

"I'm sorry." She turned away. "I shouldn't have bothered you. I just… I wanted to make sure you were alright." She started to look back over her shoulder at him.

"No!" he exclaimed. "Don't… don't look."

His voice was uncharacteristically pathetic, and his words were so… simple, almost like he'd forgotten how to use anything more complex than the smallest of expressions.

Barbara looked away as Walter asked, standing with her back to him. "Walt… just do whatever you have to do," she said. "I'll wait for you in the van."

She headed back the way she'd come. After a few steps, she set out at a run, leaving the scene behind as fast as she could. When she reached the vehicle, she leaned over the hood, panting for breath, still trying to digest what she'd just seen.

She already knew trolls could be carnivorous. She scolded herself for being so surprised. Truthfully, she'd suspected Walter was out hunting several times before when he'd disappeared. But to see it… That was an entirely different experience. Barbara took in a deep breath, telling herself to calm down. Living beings needed to eat. There was nothing unnatural about it.

So, trolls ate raw flesh; humans ate flesh too. She personally loved a good steak with a glass of wine. How was that so different? It wasn't. It wasn't at all different. Walter needed sustenance to heal, it was only logical.

After spending several minutes mulling over the subject, Barbara convinced herself it really wasn't so bad. She only hoped Walter wasn't too upset about being found out this way.

When almost three hours passed without his return, Barbara started to worry.

Only when the grey light of morning started to emerge did Walter reappear, dripping wet. He looked like he'd just come from the river. Barbara realized why he'd been so long in coming back. He'd been scrubbing away the blood.

Now that Barbara thought about it she had never seen any blood on Walter at all. It made her wonder if trolls' stone skin naturally repelled blood.

As she watched him walk, Barbara noticed Walter's gait was uneven. He walked with a hunch and every step he took resulted in a wince. His one wing still hung uncomfortably, but it looked better.

He didn't look at Barbara as he approached her, holding his shoulder. The rift in it was still unhealed and it pained her to see the gaping, bloodless wound.

When she couldn't stand to watch him struggle along alone, Barbara ran to him, offering her shoulder for support. "Are you… okay?" she ventured.

Walter accepted her help but looked away.

"It's alright, Walt. You needed to eat," Barbara said. "You are a living being after all."

At this, Walter finally met her gaze. "I… had hoped you wouldn't have to see that," he admitted.

"I know." Barbara sighed. "I'm sorry." She gave him a quick once-over, noticing the gouges on his back didn't seem so severe anymore. "Your cuts are healing," she said.

"Yes. The magic seems to be working just fine, but like anything else, magic needs fuel," Walter replied.

"Thus… the sheep," Barbara realized. "It was to sustain the healing process. But, magic? That's what's healing you?" she asked.

"Trolls are, by definition, magical creatures. We all have magic inside of us in some capacity. It's how we move, what keeps us alive," Walter explained. "Magic is how we are born. Without magic, there wouldn't be trolls – or many other things for that matter. That's why the trolls of Trollmarket need to be close to a Heartstone. It provides them with magic, giving them strength, healing them, aiding them. They rely on it."

"That goes far beyond anything I've ever heard," Barbara said. "What would modern medicine say to that?" she asked jokingly. That seemed to put Walter more at ease and he returned her smile, if only weakly.

"Come on." She beckoned him to follow her. "I folded up a couple of the seats, so you can lay down in the back." Barbara took Walter's arm and lead him in the right direction. "And listen, if you need anything to eat just tell me. I can go buy a raw beef or something. You said you eat rocks too, right? What kinds of rocks? Let me help you with this," she pleaded, a hint of frustration in her voice. She wished he'd told her about this earlier in their trip.

Walter allowed himself an amused smile and shook his head at her insistence. When they reached the van, Barbara slid open the back door, allowing Walter to climb in and lie down. She got in after him and shut the door, pulling down the window shades she'd hung.

At the sound of a child's happy cry, Walter glanced up and saw the cradle stone sitting nearby and one baby pressing his tiny hands to the surface of the stone as if he were trying to get out.

"Emil was worried too," Barbara supplied.

Walter reached for the stone, touching it with one clawed finger. Emil giggled happily at his touch, and Walter couldn't help but share the little one's happiness.

Barbara smiled softly at the sight. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked.

Walter sighed. "I think… we'd better head to the nearest Gyre's station. We need to get as far away from this country as possible."

"You… think Alberto might still be alive?" she asked.

"I don't know," Walter admitted. "But I don't want to risk it."

Barbara nodded. "I understand. That's probably for the best." She crawled into the driver's seat and started up the van, pulling out onto the road.

Walter rolled onto his back, still exhausted. The food only provided him with so much energy, and he'd already spent most of it cleaning off the sheep's blood and dragging himself back to Barbara.

Why did he have to fight? It seemed so pointless now. Walter was more than ready to never fight again. He looked over at Emil, still inside the stone. The boy was asleep. Walter touched the stone again fondly.

Raising a child… Every day the prospect looked better to him. Would it be possible to leave his life as a troll behind and start over?

For the first time in days Walter pulled out the vial Merlin gave him. It was unharmed. Perhaps the old wizard put protective magic on it.

If only the silvery liquid could make all his problems go away, but the sad truth was if he hadn't had his troll strength when he faced Alberto, the other changeling would have killed him.

Despite that, Walter couldn't help imagining a calm Saturday morning, the sun warming his human skin as he cooked breakfast for Barbara while she took care of Emil, laughing as she played with the child.

The image was so inviting, so peaceful, and completely opposite his reality of war and deceit. Closing his eyes, Walter lost himself in his fantasy.

Here, there was no Gunmar, no Janus Order, no Alberto, and no conflict. It was just him, Barbara, and the child. A happy Jim, home on a visit, made Walter frown. Instead of the trollish form he now wore, the Jim in his imagination was still human… just like everyone else.

Walter reluctantly opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. It was a hopeless dream. His life could never turn out like that… Could it?


	23. Peace

It was kind of funny, Barbara reflected, how you don't notice some things until they're gone.

She hadn't realized how much she and Walter used to talk, how easily they would slip into conversation, or how she would always feel so calm and at ease when he told her about the countries they were traveling through – their history and traditions. And even though she only half-listened sometimes, it was still nice to have his company and feel his presence.

Now, Barbara could sense Walter retreating into himself. He'd been so quiet since the encounter with his fellow changeling in Prague.

A few other things had changed too. Walter now allowed Barbara to buy his food. When he asked for red meat, she knew what he meant. The more he ate, the faster he healed, but even though he let her bring his food to him, Walter would only eat it when she wasn't around.

Two days after Barbara found Walter again they made it to a Gyre's station and skipped from Europe back to North America, stopping when they reached Canada.

When they arrived, Barbara decided to call Jim so she could talk with Blinky. The foremost question she had for him was what a troll needed to be able to heal. Blinky told her the same things Walter had – magic drawn from the Heartstone, plenty of food, and rest.

When she hung up, Barbara suggested they head back to New Jersey, so Walter could use the Heartstone's magic. Walter said it wasn't necessary, so Barbara dropped the subject. She suspected he didn't want to go back to Trollmarket now because he didn't have it in him to discuss everything that happened – at least, not any more than he already had.

As they travelled through Canada, Barbara noticed a change in Walter. Instead of leaving the cradle stone in its bag, or sitting safely secured on the floor, he would take it out while he slept, wrapping a protective arm around it. As the number of children contained in its amber walls diminished, she noticed Walter becoming more and more attached to it.

The sight warmed her heart. She would often glance in the rear-view mirror and catch a glimpse of Walter, asleep on the folded-down back seats, wrapped around the cradle stone. Sometimes she could spot a sleeping Emil curled up as close to Walter as he could get while still inside the stone.

From what Barbara had learned, from Blinky and a few other sources, trolls were extremely loyal and protective of their children – even more so than humans. Familial and tribal bonds were a sacred thing to them.

The cradle stone was almost empty now. To think nearly a year had passed, and despite everything, they'd kept their schedule. It was a relief to know they would make the cutoff date on time.

Seeing so much of the world was wonderful, but Barbara was tired. She looked forward to going home and starting a normal day again. Hopefully, ending their journey would give Walter some much-needed rest.

It was incredible to her. All her life Barbara lived seeing only a few tiny pieces of the US. Now she'd seen over half the world. It was a dream come true for her; her heart was full, and she was so glad she'd come on this adventure.

Tonight, Barbara stopped between two cities, out in the middle of one of the vast Canadian forests.

Trees towered all around as she parked the van near the edge of a small clearing. Walter took the opportunity to get out and stretch his legs, but he didn't venture too far. Ever since the incident in Prague Walter made sure he was always within earshot of her.

Barbara followed Walter as he trekked out to the other side of the clearing and sat down, leaning up against a giant oak. He stared up into the sky.

Barbara joined him in star-gazing. Untold thousands of twinkling stars were sprinkled all over the night sky like a glittering carpet. Her breath caught.

When she managed to take her eyes from the sight above, she leaned against Walter and asked, "How are you holding up?"

"Much better," Walter replied. "All my wounds are nearly healed. A few weeks more and I'll be back to my old strength…"

Barbara could hear the hesitation in his voice. "But?"

Walter sighed. "I'm tired of fighting, Barbara – tired of watching my back every waking moment… I wish I could just leave it all behind."

"Why don't you?" Barbara asked, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"You know it's not that simple," Walter replied.

"And why not?" Barbara asked. "Just don't fight."

Walter chuckled. "Imagine if Jim had said that. Gunmar would have killed him instantly."

"Gunmar's gone," Barbara pointed out.

Walter didn't say anything to that.

Barbara looked back up at the stars. "It's so peaceful out here." She shifted, laying across Walter's legs.

"Yes…" Walter breathed, his eyes now on her instead of the stars.

"You know… Sometimes you must fight. I get that," Barbara said, turning so she could look up at the stars, her hands folded over her stomach. "But you don't always have to…"

Walter laid one hand atop hers as he turned his attention back to the stars. "You think that's possible? Not having to fight?"

"Isn't that what Jim fought so hard for?" Barbara asked. "What… you fought for?"

"I suppose." Walter hesitated. "Heh. I guess I never actually thought that far ahead. It was all about the present conflict then. But now… What comes after that?"

"What do you want to come after?" Barbara asked, slipping her fingers between his claws.

Walter didn't reply.

"Walt?" Barbara asked, pulling her other hand out from under his and laying it lightly on his face.

"I…" Walter caught her hand.

"Yes?" Barbara encouraged.

Walter leaned over her and looked into her eyes. "I'll tell you – soon," he assured. "I think… I've made up my mind." He held her one hand over his heart as the other remained tangled in his claws. "Thank you."

"Huh?" Barbara blinked. "For what?"

"For making it sound so simple." Walter chuckled. "There's something I need to ask you, but not yet. For now, can we just stay like this?" he asked. "It's – it's nice." He leaned back against the tree, still holding Barbara's hand.

"Yes." Barbara smiled. "It is, isn't it," she whispered. "Too bad the trees are all in the way. If we could see the entire sky it would be gorgeous."

"I could take you up there… if you want," Walter said softly.

"Are you sure?" Barbara asked. "Your wing. It was –"

"It has healed just fine," Walter assured as he prompted her to sit up, then scooped her into his arms, one around her back, the other supporting her legs. "Glasses," he reminded.

Barbara smiled and took them off, slipping them into their case before grabbing on to Walter's neck.

With a leap and a mighty thrust of his wings, they shot up above the tree tops, soaring into the cloudless night until Walter spread his wings and caught a patch of gently flowing air. They floated far above the trees.

Barbara put her glasses back on. "Wow…" she breathed. "Walt… it's beautiful."

So far away from the city lights and pollution, the sky spread out unobscured. In every direction, the blanket of stars stretched as far as they could see. The half-moon shone amidst the twinkling stars.

"Any direction you want to go?" Walter asked.

Barbara shook her head. "Wherever is fine, just not too far away from Emil."

Walter nodded, his wings billowing out as he glided on the wind. They sailed just above the tree tops but didn't stray far from the van. Barbara held on without fear. Walter would never let her fall – not without catching her. She remembered the night she'd learned he could fly. They'd ploughed through a wall of stalklings, trying to escape Gunmar's trap. She'd fallen that night, knocked out of his grip by one of the winged trolls, but Walter dove after her, slamming into a car as he caught her.

It was hard to tell how long their flight lasted, but just as morning light started to creep over the horizon, Walter landed. He gently put Barbara down. She smiled, completely content.

The second her feet touched the ground she stood on tiptoe, laying a kiss on his cheek, just like she'd done so casually in the past.

"Thank you," she said. "So… there was something you wanted to ask me?"

Walter smiled fondly down at her and gently brushed her cheek with one claw. Affection shone in his eyes. "Not yet," he whispered. "When we've delivered the last baby. I'll ask then."

"Okay," Barbara accepted. "That's really soon though."

"I know," Walter said. "But, no reason to rush it."

At that, Barbara planted her lips on Walter's mouth. It was awkward for a human to kiss a troll. His fangs were in the way, and he didn't have any lips, but they still managed.

Barbara stood back smiling at Walter's shocked face. A moment later, the startled look turned into a soft smile.

"I'm beat. I'm going to sleep," Barbara said with a yawn. She opened the backseat door and crawled into the van, wrapping herself in a blanket. Almost as soon as she closed her eyes, she fell asleep.

Walter watched her, contentment seeping into his heart. He got in and closed the door as the morning sun crept over the van. Walter quickly pulled down the shades and opened the windows to let some air in, then sat down next to Barbara. He closed his eyes, listening to Barbara's even breaths.

He absently reached for the cradle stone and opened his eyes to find Emil already asleep, near the edge of the crystal.

Walter curled around the stone with a deep sigh, feeling the cool touch of the crystal. Here, in an old, worn out rental car, parked in the middle of nowhere he felt… peace… happiness. They were feelings so completely foreign to Walter. He decided to absorb the moment, remember every detail of it forever.


	24. The big question

Ever since their midnight flight in Canada, Barbara noticed Walter's mood improving. He was more at ease now than she could remember.

As he recovered from his wounds, Walter again started talking about all the amazing things there were in the world, and when they would pass something interesting, he encouraged Barbara to take it in. And she did – as well as she could.

When they came to one of the last cities on their journey, Walter went off by himself for several hours. Barbara didn't know what he'd been doing and when she asked, he claimed it was nothing, but the look on his face reminded Barbara of all the times she'd caught Jim sneaking cookies before dinner. It made her smile, and she didn't pry any farther.

Not long after that, Barbara realized there were only two children left in the cradle stone, a baby girl, and Emil.

They came to their final stop and Walter took the girl out of the stone. Once she'd been fed, she curled up in his arms, asleep.

"The last one…" Barbara breathed.

Walter nodded. "We did it – at least, once we've dropped her off." He indicated the little girl.

"I knew we could do this." Barbara smiled warmly. "Working together, we can do anything." She elbowed Walter. "Partner."

Walter gave her an amused smile and cleared his throat. "So… I wanted to ask. Would you mind doing the final drop-off?" He held the little girl out to Barbara.

Barbara blinked, surprised. Normally Walter did the night-drops himself since it was easier for him to stay out of sight as he could climb buildings and creep through shadows much more readily.

"Sure." Barbara accepted the baby. "I can do that."

Walter pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her. "When you're done, please meet me at this address."

Barbara took the slip, unsure of what was going on. "What's this?"

"It's… nothing," Walter replied, avoiding her gaze.

Then the thought occurred to her. Was this… it? Was this what he'd been doing when he went off alone?

"It's an apartment building," Walter said. "Part of the top floor used to be one of the Janus Order's meeting places, but that's not important. There's a flat roof. You can take the elevator to the top floor, and from there the stairs will get you to the roof."

Barbara eyed the paper, then looked up at Walter. "Okay… And what are we supposed to be doing up there?"

"You'll see when you get there," Walter muttered, sounding slightly frustrated at her continued questioning.

This earned a chuckle from Barbara.

"Alright, I get it." She smirked, then pushed up onto her toes and kissed Walter's cheek, as she'd taken to doing every day now. "I'll see you there." She smiled and left with the baby girl.

Walter shook his head at her.

Once Barbara was out of sight, Walter hurried to the apartment building. His time was limited, and he had a lot to get done before Barbara returned.

 

* * *

 

 

Barbara didn't know what to expect as she came to the top of the stairs. She opened the exit door and stepped out onto the roof. She was greeted by the pleasant night air and a slight breeze brushed through her hair.

She shut the door and waited for her eyes to adjust. The flicker of a lit candle caught her eye and she walked toward it. Then she saw the elegantly set table with two chairs, one on either side of it. There was a single plate – covered – a bottle of wine, and the candle she'd spotted from the door.

Walter adjusted the silverware, straightening to it perfection. His golden eyes landed on her. "Ah! Barbara!"

"Is this… dinner?" she asked, approaching the table.

Walter nodded. "Just a little celebration – to commemorate the success of our mission. It seems appropriate, does it not?" he asked.

Barbara allowed Walter to pull out her chair and tuck it beneath her as she sat. "So, what's on the menu?"

"I fear, with the lack of a kitchen I had to order out, and since I couldn't accept it personally I had the delivery man leave it at the door." He uncovered her plate. "I know how you like good meat, so, I ordered medium rare beef loin with whiskey sauce, thick potatoes and a side salad." He picked up the wine bottle. "This is excellent paired with the meat. I used to have quite a taste for it."

Barbara felt a twinge of pain knowing Walter couldn't enjoy this with her. She accepted a wine-filled glass as he sat down opposite her and filled his own glass with water. Barbara looked from him to his glass curiously.

"To make a toast," Walter lifted the water-filled glass. "One does need a glass, right?"

"Oh. Of course." Barbara lifted her glass too. "So… to a mission successfully fulfilled." She grinned.

"Indeed! To a mission successfully fulfilled; to the children and their new lives; and to the woman, without whom this would not have been possible," said Walter, sending a smile across Barbara's face as their glasses clinked.

Each took a sip of their drink and set their glasses down.

Barbara took a bite of her food. "This is amazing!" she said. "I was starving."

"Well, you've barely eaten today," Walter replied, then said, "So, now you've been on your world tour. Satisfied?"

"Yes." Barbara smiled. "It was wonderful, and I hope we get to travel again, but next time, I want us to be able to take it easier! And now that it's over, I'm looking forward to going home. I feel like I could sleep for days."

"Well, I hope you won't sleep too much; you do have another undertaking ahead of you. We have a baby to take care of," Walter reminded with a glance over his shoulder. He spied his bag sitting nearby. In it lay the cradle stone with its one remaining occupant.

Barbara's eyes lit up. "I know; isn't it exciting?" she asked. "Don't get me wrong, Rome was beautiful, but now I'll get to spend time with Emil."

Walter smiled warmly at her and picked up the conversation as Barbara ate.  
They talked about all the things they'd seen and laughed at the ridiculous situations they'd muddled into. For instance, when they'd gotten pulled over by the police and Walter ended up hiding under the car until the officer left. Or when they found themselves in the middle of a dragon festival and Walter hid among the statues, only for Barbara to mistake him for one of the dragons in the dim light.

In addition to that, there were the magical creatures they'd run into. Barbara still remembered the time she'd nearly been led to her death by elves – not the kind in the movies – but a more sinister type. The creatures' feminine forms made them appear alluring and harmless to travelers. Made of mist, they floated out into the marshes, leading astray the unsuspecting feet of men and women alike.

Thankfully, Walter found her and chased the creatures away, breaking their spell to reveal their true, vicious nature. Walter explained the elves liked to lead humans to their doom to amuse themselves. They'd even been known to lead a few straight into a troll's mouth and watch in delight as the troll devoured them.

That revelation was frightening at the time, and it still was, but it also amazed her. Even with such terrifying creatures in the world, Barbara knew Walter would never let anything happen to her.

It felt just like old times as they talked and laughed, enjoying each other's company. They talked about Jim too, and about Arcadia.

Barbara finished her food and Walter made her some coffee. He still sipped his water but didn't really seem to mind. When she set her mug aside, Walter took her hands in his for a moment, then let go and sat back in his chair.

"Barbara…" he said quietly.

"Yes, Walt?" she asked.

"Now that this mission is done... It's about time we start thinking about where to go from here. And I..." Slowly, he reached into the inner pocket of his cape and pulled out a white envelope. "I hope you don't feel that I've been presumptuous, but – Here..." He offered her the envelope.

Barbara raised an eyebrow but accepted it. She turned the envelope over. It was blank. With great care, she opened it and pulled out the paper tucked inside. As she unfolded the crisp document her eyes widened. "Walt..." she breathed. "Is this?"

"It's… not final yet," Walter said. "I wanted to make sure you approved of the details."

Barbara's eyes welled up with tears as she looked down at a legitimate birth certificate for Emil Lake. Her breath caught as she read the two names listed as birth parents: Barbara Lake and Walter Strickler.

Walter's dignified script already topped his printed name.

"If you sign this, I can transfer the certificate to the US database. We'll officially be his parents in all but blood," he said.

Barbara stared at Walter, trying to speak, but her mouth refused to move.

"Of course, we never discussed if – if I… should be listed as the father. Still, I hoped…" Walter admitted.

"Of course," Barbara replied, her voice breaking. "You are Emil's father – you protect him and love him. I couldn't take your son away from you, and besides… I want you to stay." She reached for Walter's hand.

Walter smiled nervously. "I… want to stay too," he said. "I want to help raise Emil with you. But to do that, something else must be done." With his free hand he pulled out a vial of shining silver liquid and set it on the table between him and Barbara.

At the sight of it, Barbara looked at Walter with questioning eyes.

"This potion… Merlin made it for me on my request," Walter explained. "It will turn me into a human. Permanently."

Barbara gasped. She pulled her hand away as she shot up out of her chair. "What?!"

Walter looked at Barbara, his eyes firm.

"Human?" Barbara asked. "But then what?"

"I'll lose my strength, my abilities, my extended life span…" Walter said. "To be honest, I'm not fully aware of all the side effects," he admitted, standing up as well. "But think about this." He walked around the table to Barbara. "How can I help you when I'm like this?" he asked, gesturing to his trollish exterior. "And think of Emil? If you get hurt, what then? Who will take care of him?"

Barbara took a shaky breath. "Please, don't say you're doing this just for me," she said. "I don't need that. I don't want you to have to change for that reason alone."

"It's not just for you." Walter slid a gentle hand under Barbara's chin, lifting it so their eyes met. "It's for me too. I've lived for a millennium – fought in several wars, killed many more than I care to remember – trolls and humans alike. All of it seems so insignificant now," he said. "Raising a son with you – That is so much more worthwhile than a thousand years of war. Forty or fifty years? No, that's not a long time for a troll, but to me, that would be so much more fulfilling." He choked back the knot in his throat. "That's what I desire more than anything – a life that is worthwhile. And this…" He took her hand and held it over his heart. "This is the most worthwhile thing I could ever imagine doing. For once – just once in my life, I can do something good. Barbara…" He looked into her clear, blue eyes. "I.." He swallowed hard, gathering his courage. "I wanted to ask you something." He let go of her hand and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a small, black box.

Barbara couldn't believe her eyes. In the low light she thought she was seeing things. Could this be what she thought it was? Could he seriously mean…?

"Will you allow me to undergo this task?" Walter asked. "To stay beside you and help you in whatever way you need; to raise Emil together with you?" He bent down on one knee and held up the box. "Will you marry me?"

Barbara couldn't breathe as Walter opened the box, revealing a simple gold band crowned with a single glittering diamond. Tears spilled down her cheeks and she covered her mouth with trembling hands.

Walter's pleading eyes waited for her answer.

"Yes!" Barbara laughed, crying tears of joy. "Yes, I'll marry you!"

Walter stood up and took her shoulders. "You… You'll do it? Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm sure!" Barbara leaned forward and kissed him. It was awkward, but neither of them cared. Walter wrapped his arms around Barbara and swung her in a delighted circle, making her laugh.

When Walter put her down again he looked at her with eyes full of love. She laid a soft hand on his face.

"Oh!" He pulled the ring out of its box, took Barbara's hand and slipped the band onto her finger. It fit perfectly.

"It's beautiful…" Barbara breathed, giving the ring a long look, then beamed up at Walter.

"I'm glad you like it." Walter smiled.

Barbara's happy expression faltered for just a moment and she glanced down.

"Barbara?" He asked, concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"You'll want to transform into a human before we arrive in Arcadia, won't you?" Barbara asked. "That doesn't give us a lot of time."

"Barbara, I'm only changing how I look. I'll still be here after I become human," Walter assured her.

"I know," Barbara said. "It's just – What if you change so much that – that I can't even recognize you? What if I end up walking around with someone else entirely? Someone who isn't you?" she asked. "I don't want you to leave me." Her wet eyes clouded with tears of sadness now.

"Barbara…" Walter held her closer, folding his wings out from under his cloak and wrapping them around her. "Even when Jim turned into a hybrid troll, he wasn't so different; when Blinkous temporarily became human, he didn't change at all. It takes more to change a person than altering what they look like," he assured. "I won't leave you. I promise."

"Well…" Barbara looked up at him. "You better keep that promise." She earned a smiled from Walter. "And just one more thing."

"Yes?" Walter asked.

"Before we go home, or get married, or any of it, I want to see Jim," Barbara insisted. "Let's head for New Jersey before we leave for Arcadia."

Walter nodded. "Of course. Jim should know. And I'm sure he would want to be informed in person. This… may be difficult for Young Atlas. Our history is a bit... sordid…"

"I know," Barbara sighed. "But he's not the one marrying you. We'll handle it." She pulled back. "How is Emil doing?"

Walter tucked his wings back into hiding and went to his bag. "Sleeping," he said, looking down at his son with loving eyes. He looked back over at Barbara. She nodded happily and returned to the table where Emil's birth certificate still lay.

"So, did you bring a pen for this?" she asked, tapping the paper.

"Of course." Walter fished one out of his bag and took it to Barbara.

She wrote her name with a flourish.

"There! Wow. That was so much easier than giving birth," Barbara quipped.

Walter snorted and picked up the paper, carefully putting it back into its white envelope. "Now I'll just need to scan it into a hospital's computer system," he said. "I'll do that back home in Arcadia. It'll be easier using a Janus Order computer. All the software I used to make your passport is on it, plus everything I'll need to slip the birth certificate into the system."

Barbara glanced at him. "You sound like an expert."

"Well, that is what changelings do – did…" Walter replied. "We made fake identities, lived as other people for a few decades, then moved on to another city – often another country. We did it so many times, it became second nature."

"Sounds… awful," Barbara said.

"It's the past." Walter shrugged. "What matters now is the future."

Barbara looked down at her ring, then at her fiancé – the father of her younger child. It felt so right – so good. Barbara could only wonder at how lucky she was to feel this happy. Everything was going to be just fine. She could feel it.

 

* * *

 

 

In a country far away from Walter and Barbara, a blue-hued troll hissed as he ripped into a dead rabbit's fragile neck. He was still too weak to hunt. Right now, he was forced to lay in wait, hoping for something to wander close enough for him to grab it.

Alberto growled, enraged at his situation. These small animals made the healing process so slow. The amount of nourishment they supplied was next to nothing – a drop of water in a dry ocean.

He snarled. Stricklander was alive. It surprised Alberto. He thought the scum dead, but when he'd come upon the other changeling, Stricklander appeared to be just fine – the picture of health.

Alberto angrily tore off the rabbit's head and stuffed it into his mouth. He felt the crunch of the rabbit's skull against his teeth as he devoured it.

 

* * *

 

 

A dear memory flashed into his mind, one from long ago. He was stationed in Italy then, forced to move from country to country.

It was his great reward for finding yet another dumb piece belonging to the Killahead bridge, he got to move to yet another country and assume a new identity again. All to look for yet another stupid piece of stone.

In his previous post, he'd posed as a lawyer. In Italy, he was a businessman.

Every changeling was put into a position of power. They were meant to manipulate humanity while looking for those pieces of bridge, to aid trollkind in gaining power, but the ever-changing roles made Alberto hate being a changeling.

Alberto groaned as he fell back onto the couch in his new apartment. He closed his eyes, tired already. He didn't even notice when someone else entered. Only when the drapes closed did he look up. "Rosa!" he gasped. "You came!" He sat up, beaming at her.

The woman smiled at him. "I wanted to make sure you settled in well. You did the same for me last time I moved to a new country, remember?" she asked. In a flash of green, Rosa changed into her troll form.

Alberto let out a deep breath. Every time she changed, he marveled. Rosa's human form was so meek and pathetic, but her troll form – It was so well-defined and strong. To think a glorious creature like her had to hide in such an unworthy shell. She should never have to hide what she was – her beauty, elegance and strength.

In the blink of an eye, Alberto changed too. In his human form he had deep olive colored skin, brown eyes which were just a little askew, and black hair. Apparently, humans found his form very attractive, but Alberto had no idea why. It didn't matter though, as Rosa lit up at the sight of his true self.

"I'm so glad you came! I missed you," he said, standing up and wrapping her in a hug.

Rosa smiled. "I won't be able to stay for long." She laid her hands on his chest. "I'm not supposed to leave my station. I'll have to go back to the States soon."

"I know… I'm just so glad to see you!" Alberto exclaimed. "I assume… No one knows you're here, right?"

"No, not one." Rosa shook her head. "I told them I was going to a political meeting with the humans in another city. No one seems to care enough to check whether I went or not."

Alberto hissed in annoyance. "Why can't we ever be stationed in the same place?" he asked.

"We were once. Remember?" Rosa asked softly, resting her head against his chest.

"Yes. One hundred years ago. Literately!" Alberto exclaimed. "I swear they're keeping us apart on purpose. Do you think they know?"

Rosa shook her head. "No. Stricklander just..." She sighed. "He keeps changelings away from each other when they get along too well. He's afraid they'll form alliances within the Janus Order and start infighting. We can't afford a schism. You know that."

"Well, Stricklander's problems aren't ours, now are they?" He ran his claws through her silky hair. "Why don't we just run for it?" he asked. "You and me! Let's leave – go away – far away!"

"But go where?" Rosa asked, stepping back. "The Janus Order has agents all around the world. They don't tolerate traitors. They'll kills us! Listen." She grabbed his shoulder and looked up at him. "It's going to be okay. Gunmar's arrival is close; I can feel it, the bridge is almost complete we are so close! When he comes, we won't have to hide any longer. We'll be free, and we can be together," she said. "We just have to keep going, just a little longer" She looked into his eyes. "Just think… no running, no hiding; just you and me."

Alberto relaxed. "Yeah, you're right." He lovingly touched her stone cheek, drinking in her glittering golden eyes. "We just have to keep going." He frowned. "Are you sure it's Gunmar's orders we're following though? Or are they just Stricklander's? I know we need to find all the pieces for the bridge to give Gunmar a way to return, but the rest of it..." He looked around his apartment skeptically. "None of this seems to be part of Gunmar's plan."

"It doesn't matter. We just need to follow orders," Rosa said firmly" Gunmar can't blame us for that, even if the orders are Stricklander's and not his. We just have to get through this. We need to survive."

Alberto nodded. "Okay. We'll keep our heads down for now." He closed his eyes and let his forehead rest against Rosa's.

"Remember, Gunmar promised us if we serve him faithfully, he'll set us free." Rosa reminded softly. "We've done what he asked us to do. We found all the pieces of the bridge… Nearly. It took us a thousand years, but we are so close now. There's nothing to be afraid of. We'll be fine."

Alberto opened his eyes and smiled down at Rosa. "You're right. We'll be fine…"

 

* * *

 

 

Yeah right! They were going to be fine! Alberto licked his fingers bitterly, lapping up the rest of the rabbit's blood.

Curse Gunmar! Curse the Janus order! Curse Stricklander! He gnashed his teeth as anger flowed through him, lending him its strength.

Someone had to pay – had to die for this!

"Stricklander!" he roared into the harsh light of the rising sun.


	25. The news

Barbara was a bundle of nerves as she and Walter ventured through the tunnels leading to New Trollmarket. One moment she smiled in excitement, the next she bit her lip anxiously. She glanced down at her hand. Her stomach fluttered again as she saw her engagement ring, glittering even in the dim light.

Every time doubts about their future crowded into his mind, Walter looked down at the ring on Barbara's finger, and its presence set him at ease. He still marveled that she'd accepted his proposal, and that she wore the ring openly. On their way to New Jersey, several people asked Barbara about her fiancé. Every time she told him about another encounter, Walter was surprised to see the light in her eyes as she related the roundabout conversations.

Barbara started chewing on a nail again.

Walter put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's going to be alright," he assured. "Jim is a good kid – a great one, in fact."

"I know…" Barbara sighed, letting her hand fall back to her side. "It's just… such a big decision, and I want him to be a part of it. You think he'll be happy about this?" she asked.

"Hmmm?" Walter blinked thoughtfully. "Well." He looked over his shoulder, keeping his eyes away from Barbara. "That's…"

"We're here!" she gasped, racing forward through the arched entrance.

Walter sighed in relief as Barbara's attention shifted from him to New Trollmarket. He followed her through the door and out into the vast underground cavern.

"Hey, Mom!" The voice called Barbara's attention to where Jim sat across from Claire nearby. Between them lay a set of cards, dealt out appropriately for a classic game of "Go Fish."

"Jim!" Barbara screamed in delight, rushing to her son and falling on her knees beside him as she hugged him tightly. "I'm so happy to see you!" she announced joyfully.

Jim laughed, his face glad. He patted his mother's shoulder. "It's only been a few months," he pointed out.

"And you don't think that's a long time?!" Barbara asked, gaping at him in disbelief as she sat down beside her son. "Three months is forever!"

Claire grinned. "Congratulations on the successful mission."

"Thank you!" Barbara beamed back at Claire. "It was fun, but I'm so ready to go home." She let out a contented sigh.

Jim smiled. "I'm glad it went alright." He sent Walter a thankful smile.

Walter returned the smile awkwardly, knowing there was a significant chance Jim was going to regret that gesture.

As if on cue, Barbara held up her hand and exclaimed, "I've got exciting news. Look!" She showcased the ring on her finger.

Jim blinked hard at the spectacle, stunned.

"Wait a minute –" Claire gaped. "Is that… an engagement ring?!"

"Yes, it is!" Barbara gushed.

Jim stared at her, mouth hanging open.

"For real?!" Claire gasped. "Who's the guy?! No… wait." She looked up at Walter. "No way! Mr. Strickler?"

Barbara nodded and stood up, taking Walter's hand. "He asked me the day we finished our mission. I said 'yes'!"

Jim didn't move, his mouth still hung open and his eyes stared blankly. He looked like he'd been frozen in time or turned into a statue.

"Jim…?" Barbara waved a hand in front of his still face. "Sweetie, are you alright?"

A second later Jim shook his head and blinked hard, falling out of his shocked trance. He grabbed a fistful of his hair and looked up to see his mother's hand wrapped around Walter's, the engagement band shining in the glaring lights of New Trollmarket down below.

"Jim?" Barbara asked again.

"Sorry – Excuse me." Jim cleared his throat. "Let me get this straight. You." He pointed at Walter. "Asked my mom to – to –" He couldn't force the words out, "To what?!" he bellowed, shooting to his feet. "You intend to –How would that even work?! You can't just – You – That – ARGHH!" he roared in frustration.

"Jim." Claire stood up and laid a staying hand on Jim's shoulder.

"No!" Jim turned to her then back to his mother. "You can't be serious – just springing this on me!" He furiously searched for a reason to object to the shocking news. Finally, he blurted, "He's a troll!" Jim's eyes betrayed his bewilderment and the young hybrid troll grabbed his head, fighting to make sense of this revelation.

"Jim…" Barbara faltered.

Walter's expression was firm, determined, as he looked at Jim. He let go of Barbara's hand and stepped forward, reaching into his pocket and pulling out Merlin's vial. "Last time we were here, I requested this potion of the wizard," he said. "It has the power to turn a troll into a human… permanently. I am not going to let Barbara raise Emil alone. I intend to help her with that endeavor in whatever way I can. Emil is my son; I'm going to become what he needs me to be – a human." He held up the vial.

Jim looked from the silvery liquid to Walter. "Human…?" he asked, surprised. "You just intend to turn yourself into a human and you think that'll fix everything?!" he demanded.

"This was not an easy decision for me, Jim," Walter chided. "As I am sure it wasn't an easy decision for you to become part troll."

"It's not the same thing!" Jim growled. "So, you're just going to become human, marry my mom, and go home to Arcadia to raid a child with her?!" Jim snarled at Walter. "You can't do that!"

"That is exactly what I intend to do," Walter rumbled back.

"That – You – ARGHH!" Jim covered his face with his hands as he hissed angrily, the sound nearly turning into a roar.

"Jim!" Barbara stepped forward, but Walter held out an arm, blocking her path.

"Stay back. It will only hurt him more if he accidentally harms you," Walter warned.

"Jim wouldn't..." Barbara gasped.

"He wouldn't do it intentionally. Troll emotions can be quite raw," Walter explained. "Claire, please step back," he cautioned the girl.

With a gulp, Claire did as she was told.

Walter stepped forward and confronted Jim. "You're shocked, and you're angry."

"Shut up," Jim hissed, baring his fangs in a trollish show of strength.

"You need to get rid of these frustrations; don't suppress them," Walter said. "You want to hit me, don't you? Then do it; hit me." Walter beckoned Jim toward him.

The changeling didn't need to ask twice. Jim's fist flew at Walter, cracking into his face and sending him to the floor.

Everyone gasped, Jim included, but Walter stood up and dusted himself off as though nothing happened.

"I... I'm sorry," Jim mumbled.

"Nothing to apologize for. It is a part of your nature now, Jim. Trolls are quite protective of those they consider family," Walter said. "And I can take it. Trolls do frequently express themselves through combat."

"Would you stop that!" Jim shouted in Walter's face. "Stop trying to act so calm and clever. Just… leave me alone!" He turned and ran, putting as much distance between himself and Walter as he could.

"Jim!" Barbara called out, starting after her son.

"Stop." Walter held her back. "He needs to get this out of his system."

"Was that necessary?" Claire exclaimed. "You didn't have to make him hit you!" she shouted.

"It is better for him to let out his anger instead of suppressing it," Walter stated, unmoved by Claire's outburst. "For a troll, suppressing emotions is damaging. It only leads to more violence and anger. It's better to just get it out."

Claire swallowed nervously, noting Barbara looked just as anxious as she was.

"Let him deal with his frustrations, Barbara," Walter said. "I'm sure he'll come to you when he's ready."

Barbara nodded reluctantly. "I... I didn't expect him to act like that," she admitted.

"Jim is, after all, a human teenager and part troll. His emotions are… complex. But though he is those things, he'd also a good and kind young man who loves you beyond all else. I'm sure he'll figure this out," Walter assured her.

Barbara bit her lip.

"I'm going to go keep an eye on Jim." Walter started after the young man. "Don't follow, please. Let Jim come to you in his own time. I do believe the worst thing that could possibly happen right now would be for him to hurt you, even if only by accident. A troll's rage can be unpredictable. Do not test it."

Barbara nodded reluctantly.

Walter shot a glance over at Claire. "That goes for you too, Ms. Nuñez."

"Yes, I understand," Claire replied. "I'll stay with Doctor Lake."

"Good." Walter gave the two a nod, stepped over to the railing and spread his wings. He climbed up onto the rail and leapt off, soaring away.

Barbara bit her finger, shaking.

"Hey…" Claire laid a hand on Barbara's shoulder. "Let's not just stand around here. I've got hot chocolate over at my place. That always calms my nerves."

Barbara gave the girl a shaky smile. "Alright."

Claire led Barbara in the right direction. "Oh, and congratulations on the engagement. That's great!"

"Is it really?" Barbara asked. "You think it is? Jim seemed so…"

"Hey." Claire stopped and looked Barbara in the eye. "The way Mr. Strickler just handled things I can totally understand why you want to keep him around. That was… kind of cool," Claire admitted. "It'll be fine. Jim accepted you two were probably dating again – a while ago in fact."

"But then why would he…?" Barbara's sentence trailed off.

"Like Mr. Strickler said, teenage emotions and troll emotions." Clair bit her lip. "Not a pretty mix. But Jim always figures things out," Claire assured. "Besides, you're not just marrying Mr. Strickler on a whim, are you?"

"No, of course not!" Barbara exclaimed. "I love him! I just – I love Jim too. I don't know." She groaned, holding her throbbing forehead.

Claire looked at her with sympathy. "And Jim loves you too, that I know for sure." She started toward her small house again. "Wow, a wedding… Can I be a bridesmaid?" she asked, a bit jokingly.

"We were planning to get married at the town hall actually," Barbara admitted. "So, not really a ceremony or anything."

"What? Why not?" Claire asked.

Barbara smiled, amused. "I think we've both had enough adventure for now. We just want to go home and start our life. Actually, our plan was to marry here in New Trollmarket before returning to Arcadia. Which… also means Walt will have to… become human soon… Maybe we should wait though. I mean, Jim –" She sighed. "I want him to be a part of this."

Claire looked at Barbara with a reassuring smile, "He'll be happy when he realizes you want him to be part of it too, I'm sure of it," she said. "It's going to be okay. Men are just stupid once in a while."

That elicited a chuckled from Barbara. "Okay then." She caught up to Claire and walked beside her, but despite the girl's best efforts to put her at ease, Barbara's nerves still wouldn't settle. She only hoped the men in her life truly would figure this out.

 

* * *

 

 

Jim roared, leaping into the air and slicing Daylight down on a training dummy. The shining blade cleaved the sad thing in two. Jim jumped from platform to platform, punching and kicking rocks and other training equipment.

"Master Jim!" A six-eyed troll hopelessly tried to get the Trollhunter's attention. "Please, calm down! What's going on?"

Jim hammered a pillar so hard a chunk of stone flew free.

Blinky caught a flash of color. He looked up just in time to catch sight of a green, winged troll stationed on a perch above him, half in shadow. "You." Blinky gaped at the changeling, then narrowed his eyes. "I don't know how, but I'd bet this is your fault!" he exclaimed, pointing at Walter accusingly.

Walter let out a deep breath. "Yes… it rather is," he admitted, jumping down to land on a platform just above Blinky's head.

"I knew it!" Blinky waved his finger at the changeling. "What did you do to Master Jim?!" he demanded.

"I proposed to his mother. She accepted, and we plan to marry," Walter replied, letting out another sigh.

"What were you thinking? That's highly irresponsible!" Blinky lectured.

Walter lifted an eyebrow. "You don't know what being married means, do you?" he asked.

"Of course, I do!" Blinky snapped. "It's… Well. Maybe you can remind me; there's so many terms out there, you know."

Walter shook his head at the other troll. "You know when two trolls bond to become mates? It's like that," he explained.

Blinky's eyes shot wide. "What?! How could that conceivably work? You're a troll for goodness' sake! She's a human!"

Walter rolled his eyes, tiring of Blinky's questioning. "I had Merlin make a potion that can turn me into a human. I believe you had a similar experience once, though mine ought to be a bit more… permanent."

"Oh." Blinky realized. "I see. Well, that seems drastic. Being human was interesting, but permanently?" Blinky's whole body shivered just as Jim roared and smashed another stone to pieces. Blinky surveyed the scene. "Master Jim…"

"I'll handle it," Walter said, standing up on the platform.

"What do you intend to do?" Blinky asked.

"Well, what do you normally do when a troll is so caught up in vengeful blood rush that they can't even think anymore?" Walter asked.

"Erhm, well… The troll in question will challenge the object of his anger to a duel and they will fight either until the urge is satisfied… or one of them is dead," Blinky replied. "But that's troll behavior! Jim has never –" his face fell as he grasped for a reason Jim wouldn't resort to such violence.

Walter crouched, and said to Blinky, "I'd wager Jim is holding in quite a number of frustrations. Most likely this incident was just the last straw."

"You'd better not hurt him!" Blinky instructed.

"Me? Hurt him? Please…" Walter rolled his eyes. "You do know that this is the Trollhunter who managed to defeat Gunmar, don't you?" He gestured toward Jim. "And he has the sword of Daylight. I may be a changeling, but that doesn't make me the strongest combatant here. Jim isn't the one you should be concerned about."

"Bah," Blinky snorted.

Walter groaned. "Look, he needs to get this out of his system. You know that!"

Blinky folded his four arms in a pout but nodded his approval.

"Good," Walter replied in an almost condescending voice. "I'm so glad to have your permission. Now, if you would be so kind, go check on Barbara and Claire. Make sure they don't decide to rush in here and stop this. Having those two interrupt such a melee is hardly desirable."

"If you think I'm going to leave –" Blinky shook a fist at Walter.

"This is important, Blinkous!" Walter growled. "If Barbara rushes in here and sees Jim slamming a fist into my face again, what do you think that'll do to Jim? Both Barbara and Claire are just the type to rush in! I need you to go out there and make absolutely sure that doesn't happen! I don't believe Jim could bear them seeing this." He watched Jim viciously slice through another stone. "Beating one another to settle an argument is normal for trolls. But it isn't normal for humans, and Jim has yet to grasp that his nature is not what it used to be. I'm sure Barbara would forgive him; it's about Jim being able to forgive himself for his new nature – his troll nature."

Blinky opened his mouth to protest, then snapped it shut again. "Fine," Blinky grumbled. "I'm giving you thirty minutes! Then I'm coming back myself! And if I see one scratch on Jim –!"

"Yes, I know. You're sounding like a broken record – terribly annoying those are." Walter rolled his eyes. "Now, get out."

Blinky reluctantly complied. Even he could see the logic in letting Jim fight this out. It was a necessary evil.

Walter stood to his full height and turned to face Jim. "This is going to hurt," he groaned. "Jim, please don't kill me."

With a single, long leap and short flight Walter landed behind the teenager. "Jim!"

The boy glared back at Walter and the two held each other's gaze.

"It's not these stone pillars you're angry at, is it." Walter said. "It's me; I'm the one you want to hit."

"Go away," Jim growled, his voice low.

"Heh! You're afraid you're going to hurt me. aren't you? I'm touched," Walter smirked. "But I can take it, remember?" he asked, taking a jab at Jim's face, making his stumble back.

"That didn't even hurt," Jim shook off the surprise of the hit.

"Of course, it didn't. You're part troll." Walter held his hands behind his back. "And I am fully troll. You think death matches between trolls are held for fun? In many instances, they are the only way to resolve a troll's conflicting emotions. This is not the time to suppress your nature." Walter could feel the rising anger in Jim. "You are protective of your mother; she is part of your tribe. I am an enemy moving in on your territory. Your instincts tell you that is wrong, and they'll keep telling you to get rid of this threat until you've burned through that consuming anger." He clasped his hands in front of him, much like he used to do in the middle of a lecture. "A human has the ability to walk away, to calm down. A troll does not. It is time to satisfy the troll within you, Young Atlas."

Jim growled.

"Good." Walter nodded as he took a fighting stance and muttered under his breath, "Here goes nothing."

Jim roared, sprinting for Walter, fist ready. Walter let out a breath and prepared to dodge. He could only hope this grudge-match wouldn't be too painful.


	26. reconsiliation

Walter was no stranger to awkward situations, but this one… He was hard pressed to think of an instance more awkward than this.

Here they were, he and Jim. The teen's frustrations now ebbed as they sat with their backs against the arena wall. To Walter's relief, the fight did not involve anything life-threatening.

They avoided each other's gaze, both pretending to be fascinated by the broken training equipment strewn around the arena.

Eternal seconds ticked by. Then Walter broke the silence. "I assume you're feeling better now?"

"Yeah," Jim muttered.

"It's normal for a troll to need to satisfy these urges, you know. It's nothing to be ashamed off," Walter assured.

Still, Jim didn't look at him, but Walter knew Jim's troll urges weren't what this was about. They needed to talk, but neither knew what to say.

Walter glanced over at Jim and opened his mouth to speak but couldn't find the right words. He cleared his throat. "Jim."

"I don't want to talk to you." Jim crossed his arms like the moody teenager he was.

"Listen. I know this isn't easy for you – my marriage proposal to Barbara, I mean," Walter offered.

"Not easy?" Jim glared at Walter. "That's the worst understatement in history, Strickler! The guy who tried to kill me is marrying my mom!" Jim fumed. "Then you're just going to go home to Arcadia and raise another son – live happily ever after with your perfect little family. Without me!" He threw up his arms.

Walter frowned as he listened to Jim's words, then he saw the real root of the young man's frustrations. "Jim… you cannot be replaced. You know that, right? Your mother loves you more than anything. She won't just forget you – she can't."

The words hit their mark and Jim sucked in a hard breath.

"I know that," Jim said defensively. "I just… Taking care of Mom is my job!" He jumped to his feet. "Then you stepped in, and – You can't do that!" he bellowed. "So, you're going to move in with her?!"

"That is what married couples do, isn't it?" Walter asked.

"You can't just do that!" Jim yelled again. "So, you're going to cook all her food too? Do you even know what she likes to eat?"

"I am fairly familiar with Barbara's tastes by now," Walter replied.

"Well… That –" Jim grasped for another objection. "A baby – that's a huge thing. Can you handle that?" he asked. "I mean, seriously, you're the world leader of a secret organization. You're this fearsome warrior, not… a house dad!"

Jim's reasons grew more outlandish after that, and even Jim realized he was reaching.

"Will my running away from this without a word, like a certain other husband make your mother happy?" Walter asked with lifted eyebrow.

Jim started to protest, then looked away.

"Jim." Walter stood up. "I just want to make her happy. Isn't that what you want too?"

"Yes…" Jim admitted, eyes still averted. "And she looks really happy right now. I know I should be happy for her, but I just…" He turned back to Walter. "I'm a terrible son, aren't I? What kind of kid doesn't want his own mom to be happy? She… doesn't need me anymore, and that's… a good thing, I guess. But –" He swallowed hard, eyes welling up with tears.

"You're wrong, Jim," Walter said.

Jim stared at him.

"Barbara will always need you. You're her son, and she needs your support. You're not being replaced – far from it. Her family is not being split in two, Jim. It's being extended. When you formed your bond with Blinkous – when you trained with him, you didn't replace your mother, you gained a father. And Barbara isn't replacing you, she's gaining another child, and you're gaining a brother – one who will need your protection… A form of protection I will not be able to give once this is over. Who knows what the future will bring?"

"I… think I see," Jim admitted. "But what does that make you?"

Walter smiled sadly. "I know I destroyed my chance of you accepting me as your father, but I hope at least… we can be friends."

"You know what," Jim said with a sigh. "My biological father… Well, you trying to kill me was bad, but what he did to me and Mom –" Jim shook his head. "You helped me when I needed it. Even right now, you knew what I needed to snap out of this, didn't you? You were just trying to help. You looked out for me way more than he ever did, so… yeah, friends seems okay." He offered Walter a hand.

The changeling took it and they shook on their newly-found understanding.

"You're doing better?" Walter asked.

"Yeah. It still kind of stings. In here," Jim said, holding a hand over his chest. "I really want to go break stuff, but… I know I have to just suck it up. And besides." Jim gave Walter an evil grin. "You're going to be human. If you hurt my mom there'll be nothing that can save you." He poked Walter with a warning finger. "No more troll strength to protect you."

Walter chuckled, "Well, I guess I'd better not hurt your mother." Then he grew more serious. "Jim, listen! Humans have the ability to calm down by just waiting it out; trolls do not," he warned. "If you feel the need to destroy something, just do it. The trick is finding a way to do it on your own terms."

Jim nodded as he listened. "Yeah, okay. I get it. Man… trolls and humans – they really are entirely different species. Sometimes it's easy to forget," he mumbled with a glance toward Walter. "You're seriously going to go through with it, aren't you?" he asked. "Becoming fully human."

Walter nodded. "I've made up my mind, Young Atlas; I'm not going to change it now."

"I see. Wish I could join you." Jim kicked at a loose stone, sending it skipping across the arena.

Walter laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "Who knows? Maybe it's not too late. There were many old spell books and other arcane knowledge at the Janus Order that haven't been opened for centuries. Maybe there's a solution there."

Jim lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "Merlin said it wasn't possible."

"Merlin is not all knowing, even if that is what he claims," Walter stated. "I need to go through those books anyway. I'll just keep an eye out while I do."

Jim smiled, grateful Walter was going to look specifically for a way to return him to his human self. "Thanks…" he said.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Walter smacked his fist into his other hand. "Your education!"

"What?" Jim asked, surprised.

"You're an entire year behind in school," said Walter.

"What does that matter when I'm living with trolls?" Jim asked.

"It matters, Young Atlas," Walter proclaimed, "because there is still a chance you'll be human again, and even if there was no such chance, education is still key! I shall inquire of Blinkous Galadrigal and have him help me. He will make sure you read the books I send you and do your assigned homework."

"What?" Jim exclaimed. "No! No way! You're not bringing Blinky into this."

"Oh, yes, I am," Walter insisted. "And Ms. Nuñez should be a good influence as well."

"No! No-no-no!" Jim protested as Walter walked away. "Hey, wait!" Jim called after him, running to catch up with the changeling. "Can't we talk about this?" he asked. "You don't have to go through all this trouble for me!"

"Oh, it will be my pleasure," Walter said with an evil grin. "I shall enjoy reading your essays and ensuring your English lacks nothing. As a teacher, I can even make sure you'll be able to take a home-administered exam by the end of the year."

"What?! Officially?" Jim asked, surprised.

"Yes, an official exam," Walter nodded. "I want you to take this seriously, Jim, so hopefully one day you can become human, go to college, or have any education you wish. Ensuring the quality of your education would put your mother's mind at ease too."

Jim didn't protest any more. "Yeah, okay. You're right. I just hate studying," he groaned.

Walter smirked. "This may sound cliché, but you'll thank me for it later."

"Sure, whatever." Jim rolled his eyes, but then he smiled. "So, you think there's still a chance I can go to college one day?" he asked.

"If you study," Walter said. "I see no reason why not. Let's at least keep it in mind as a possibility. Knowledge never hurts anyone, now does it?"

Jim shook his head. "I guess not. Heh. I'm actually looking forward to it, now that I think about it. Seems like such a normal thing. It's… nice."

As the two left the training area, Walter was glad their fight turned out this way. Everything was going to be fine.

 

* * *

 

 

Together, they stepped into Claire's little house. Claire, Barbara, and Blinky looked up as they entered.

"Jim," Barbara breathed.

"Hey, Mom," Jim said, a little embarrassed. "I… I'm sorry about how I acted. That wasn't –"

He didn't get another word in before Barbara jumped up out of her seat and threw her arms around his neck. "It's okay! I'm just glad you're alright."

"Mom…" Jim hugged her back. "I want you to be happy," he said. "That's the most important thing to me. I just need to get used to this," he admitted. "You're starting an entirely new life, and it's something I wish I could be a part of."

"Oh, sweetie," Barbara pulled back to look her son in the eye. "Of course, you're going to be part of it! Emil is your little brother, and I'm your mother!" she declared. "No matter what happens, I want you to be a part of this. That's why we came here. That's also why we're getting married in New Trollmarket. We want you here for this – even if you can't go to the town hall with us," she said with a sigh.

"Here?" Jim asked. "Before you go back to Arcadia?" he asked then gave Walter a questioning look. "But, that means you would have to…"

Walter nodded. "My days as a troll are numbered."

"When?" Jim asked.

"A week," Walter said. "So, if you feel the need to beat me up again, please do it before then.".

"I'll keep that in mind," Jim said dryly, then stopped for a moment as the reality of it sank in. "You're seriously going through with it."

"Well." Claire stepped up beside Jim. "A week to prepare a wedding? That's not a lot of time." She grabbed Jim's hand and exclaimed, "We need presents!"

"Claire, it's all right you don't have to do that," Barbara protested.

"And I've got the perfect idea!" Claire declared, then her hands flew to her mouth. "But, a week?! I don't know if I have time! Why would you only give us a week's warning?!" she demanded. "A week is nothing!"

"We don't intend to make it anything special," Barbara said, deflating a little, but then her eyes lit up. "Hey, wait a minute, don't trolls have something like marriages too?" she asked, grabbing Walter's hand. "That's perfect, isn't it? We could get married the troll way down here. That'll be the ceremony Jim can attend! Then the next day we'll go to the town hall and do the human marriage!" she beamed, excited.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Walter stated.

"And why not?" Barbara asked.

"Because the main event of a troll bonding ritual is when the male goes out and hunts prey, the larger the better, and presents it to the female. Only if she is satisfied with the size of the prey will she agree to enter combat with the male, and then they fight in an arena where the audience can participate. When the fighting is done, the female declares whether she's satisfied with the male's showcase of strength. Only after the female's approval does the tribe leader announce them mates," Walter summarized. "It may be presumptuous, but I don't think you want me to drop a giant, newly-slain beast in front of you, and I definitely don't want to fight you in an arena."

"Ahhhh… Yeah, no. I think I'll pass on that," Barbara looked away sheepishly. "I just… I wanted to do something with the troll you, and have Jim be there too."

"Well, we could have a small, more human-inspired ceremony," Walter suggested. "Ask Blinkous if he wouldn't mind saying a few words and let it be that."

Barbara beamed then turned to Jim. "What do you say?" she asked.

"Well," Jim hesitated. "Yeah, sure. Sounds good." He nodded, only for Barbara to hug him tightly again.

Jim allowed himself a smile and relaxed.

Barbara let him go. "Sweetie, I know this isn't easy for you, and I'm so proud of you." She lovingly brushed his cheek.

"I'll live," Jim assured. "I just want you to be happy, Mom. So, do that; be happy."

Barbara smiled warmly at her son as Walter looked on. With a relieved sigh he allowed himself to hope this would not become a complete disaster!


	27. Habanera

As Walter approached Nomura's cave, he was surprised to hear the angry tones of the Carmen Overture blasting from within. He stepped inside.

Nomura sulked, leaning against the wall, arms crossed in a pout.

The overture ended, only to be followed by Votre Toast from the same opera. Its aggressive tones hit Walter like a cement slab.

"Nomura," Walter shouted over the music.

The other troll didn't reply, her eyes on anything but Walter.

"Nomura, could you turn the music down?" Walter asked. When she didn't respond he bellowed, "Nomura!"

She turned up the volume.

With a groan Walter went over to the speaker and turned it off, earning him an angry glare from Nomura.

Walter lifted an eyebrow. "I see you're angry with me," he said. "May I at least ask why?"

"Why? WHY?!" Nomura roared, shooting to her hooved feet. "Is being a changeling not good enough for you anymore?" she growled. "You're going to just turn yourself into a human and leave – pretend all this never happened?"

Walter met Nomura's furious gaze.

"You're going to go play Mom and Dad with that woman? Oh, how sweet," Nomura said condescendingly. "You seal off the headquarters, get rid of the familiars, and then leave troll-kind behind. Just erase it all, why don't you?" she hissed.

"Nomura, it's not like that," Walter began.

"Then what is it like?!" Nomura demanded. "You can't be human. You're not one of them! We're changelings – not trolls – not humans, and we… we're two of the last three…" she swallowed hard, her voice faltering. "So, you're just going to leave me with all of this, you idiot?!" she roared in Walter's face and thrust her beloved MP3 player at him.

Walter grabbed it, giving Nomura a stern look. "I don't believe this is your decision to make. It's mine."

"And just how is your opinion the only one that matters?!" Nomura demanded. "You turn into a human and you – You..." she took a deep, shaky breath. "Are you really so keen on dying too?!" she wailed.

Walter stared at her. "Nomura, it isn't as though I'll die that quickly."

"You would have fifty years at the most, and you know it!" Nomura accused. "Fifty years is nothing! You're giving yourself a death sentence! And then I – I –" She sat back down, overwhelmed. "You're leaving me alone, you selfish coward!" She covered her face with her hands.

Walter took a hesitant step toward her. "Nomura," he said softly.

She avoided his gaze.

"Nomura, look." With a sigh, Walter sat down beside her. "When I'm with Barbara, I'm happy," he said. "Have you ever known a single changeling who could say they were happy?"

Nomura kept her eyes on the floor. "No," she muttered.

"I'm sorry about this." Walter joined Nomura in staring at the floor. "Nomura… I – I hope one day, you'll get the same chance I have now – the chance to be happy. Once that day comes, I want you to grab that chance and hold on to it."

"Pfff! I don't believe for a second that'll actually happen." Nomura pulled her legs up, tucking her knees against her chest. "That ship sailed a long time ago."

"Don't be so sure," Walter countered. "I didn't believe I could ever be happy. I just hoped someday some changeling somewhere would be. And…" he hesitated. "There's… something else I need to tell you."

"What?" Nomura asked.

"I… I found another. Another changeling, I mean," Walter confessed.

Nomura's shocked eyes met Walter's.

"I found him in Prague – a lesser ranking changeling by the name of Alberto Daumier. He stayed behind when Gunmar summoned us. That's how he escaped the purge."

Nomura gaped. "Daumier? I think I remember him. He's blue, right?" she asked. "And his human form looks Latino. Where is he?!" she asked eagerly, only to be taken aback by Walter's serious face.

"I don't know; I don't even know if he's still alive," said Walter.

"What?" Nomura asked. "What do you mean?"

"He attacked me," Walter explained. "He blamed me for the deaths of the changelings and he wanted to kill me. We fought. I tried to fly away, but he grabbed me. Up in the air I finally managed to get him off… I dropped him. And I didn't go back to check on him. If I had and he was alive, he would just have attacked me again. He was rather keen on killing me."

Shocked, Nomura stared at Walter for a moment, then turned away. "I see… That makes sense."

Walter gave her a questioning look.

"If I hadn't seen Gunmar's cruelty for myself, I would probably have blamed you too," she said.

Walter nodded. "He seemed intent on avenging one particular changeling, a Ponderosa Pendersøn. Her human name was Rosa Peterson. Does that sound familiar?"

"Yes, it does." Nomura nodded. "We were stationed together once. She was a pretty, quiet type, usually keeping her head down and following orders without asking questions," Nomura mused. "Seemed pretty weak-minded to me. It's a wonder she didn't die a hundred years ago, but, then again… I mean she was a changeling. She was bound to have secrets."

"Like a relationship with another changeling," Walter surmised.

"So, she died, and he lived," Nomura commented. "Now that's a plot for an opera."

"I suppose you'd better start writing then," Walter quipped.

Nomura rolled her eyes. She leaned back against the wall with a sigh. "So… You really intend to go through with it – become human, get married, and live a normal human life?" she asked.

Walter nodded. "Yes. That's what I intend to do."

"Then just answer me one question," Nomura held up a long, clawed finger. "Will doing this be staying true to yourself?"

Walter smirked, recognizing the question the mountain king asked Peer in the play Nomura liked about the boy.

"It's a complicated question. It certainly isn't who I have been for a long time – all my life even," Walter said as he leaned against the wall too. He took a deep breath and went on, "But… It is who I want to be. I want it, Nomura. I desire it more than anything."

"I see." Nomura nodded. "Then… I guess the mountain king will be satisfied."

"You're still angry with me, aren't you?" Walter asked.

"Yes," came Nomura's short answer.

"Well, I suppose that's fair," Walter accepted. "We're going to hold a small ceremony down here in New Trollmarket in six days. Blinkous will be saying a few words. I would be pleased for you to attend."

Nomura snorted. "Weddings aren't really my thing." Then she said more quietly, "Thanks though. I'll… consider it."

"That's all I can ask." Walter handed Nomura back her MP3 player.

She reconnected the speaker and chose another song, this one less assertive than the last. Both changelings sat quietly, allowing the music to touch their souls as Carmen's Habanera filled the cave with its alluring words of love and freedom – freedom over your own life; freedom to love whoever you chose. It truly was a tempting song.


	28. The night before

Walter found himself astounded at everyone's enthusiasm in preparing for the wedding. Though he appreciated the sentiment, he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it.

Blinkous was reluctant at first, but the prospect of being able to perform a human ceremony won him over. The excited troll couldn't hide his eagerness and curiosity and he spent all his time studying for his task. Though "studying" was a loose term since it meant binge-watching "Say 'Yes' to the Dress" and running "My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding" ten times over, and casting doubt in Walter's mind on the idea of Blinky filling the role of officiant.

Over the course of the several days leading up to the ceremony, Walter had to remind himself more than once that Blinkous was the leader of this tribe, and it fell to him to oversee bonding rituals. Then he caught Blinky watching "Four Weddings and a Funeral," as if anything that happened to have the word "wedding" in the title was legitimate to use for educational purposes on the subject.

Claire ran around like a mad-woman, periodically disappearing to work on her surprise gift. Walter supposed it was good Claire came to New Trollmarket with Jim. She lightened his periodic mood-swings. Walter didn't envy Jim's struggle with such varied emotions. Young Atlas went from being genuinely happy about the coming wedding to being annoyed – even angry – then confused, then would finally find it in himself to be happy again.

The days flew by and before Walter realized, it was the night before the wedding. He was feeling quite nervous. To fend off some of the anxiety, he'd distanced himself, sneaking off to a quiet place above-ground.

Hours before sunrise he was surprised to see the Nomura's face appear beside him. She crouched down, looking out at the nearby city. "So, the night before the big day, huh?" she asked.

"So, it would seem," Walter replied.

"Your last night as a troll – it would be a shame to waste it, wouldn't it?" Nomura asked.

Walter gave her a questioning look.

She gave him a toothy grin. "Come on, let's see who makes it to the other end of town first."

Walter blinked, caught off guard by the offer. "Oh, yes. Of course." He stood up. "I could use the air." He itched to move – to fly through the night with the wind blasting into his face and the night air chilling his stony frame.

He took off, leaving Nomura to catch up.

Freedom. Walter breathed in the scent of it, leaping from building to building so fast it would make a human's head spin. He sprinted, at times using all four limbs to push himself to higher speeds. This was his normal, something he was used to, and yet, tonight he paid special attention to every detail of his last reveling. He savored the sense of absolute freedom, the rush of the wind against his body.

He tried to imprint on his mind the sense of strength as he jumped distances he knew he would never rival again. He felt the glorious satisfaction of grabbing on to a ledge and then… spreading his wings to soar into the sky before falling back to earth, easily hooking a wall on the way down and hanging on. He closed his eyes, wanting to remember these moments – these sensations forever.

Nomura landed atop the wall and looked down at him. "Second thoughts?" she asked.

"No." Walter replied, his eyes still closed.

"Are you claiming you're not enjoying this?" Nomura asked.

"Not at all. It thrills me to do this again, and I know there will be times I shall miss it. But to gain something great, it is only natural you must give up something as well," Walter reflected. "It's the way the world works. What you need to decide is what has lasting value to you."

"How insightful." Nomura rolled her eyes. "Come on. I've got something to show you." Nomura motioned for him to follow her.

"Oh?" Walter asked. "And what might that be?"

"Just come on!" Nomura insisted. "You won't be able to follow me around in your human form, so tonight is the only time you'll be able to see it!"

"Alright. I'll bite," Walter gave in, amused at Nomura's gruff comradery. He followed her and was surprised to find their destination was near the inner city.

They arrived at an old theatre building. Nomura eagerly crawled up the scarred outer wall, revealing a trapdoor in the roof. She opened it and crawled through. Walter smirked as he followed her. They waded through an area filled with robes, ducking to avoid the wires hanging from the ceiling. Nomura stepped onto the steel beams, her pristine balance keeping her from falling. "Maybe that runt will even be here!" she whispered back to Walter.

"Runt?" Walter asked.

Nomura didn't explain.

They arrived at a small attic, filled with props and old theater costumes. Nomura stepped over to one wall, pushing a giant papier-mâché elephant aside to reveal a hole just big enough for a person to watch through. She looked through the peep-hole and grinned. "She's there!"

Walter went over to the hole and took a peak out into the theater. The old stage stood directly ahead, and on it stood a girl. She looked to be in her early teens, perhaps thirteen or fourteen. Her thick, curly, black hair fell freely down her shoulders. Her dark skin complemented her twinkling black eyes. She was petite, even frail-looking, and a bit short.

"That girl sneaks in here at night to practice opera," Nomura chuckled.

"Is she any good?" Walter asked, still watching the girl as she fiddled with her phone.

"Give it a moment and judge for yourself." Nomura suggested.

Walter waited.

At last, a karaoke version of Ritorna Vincitor from Aida filtered through the theater.

The girl took a deep breath, steadying herself, and then she sang. At first, she was unsure, but the farther she ventured into the song, the more confident she grew.

Walter smirked. "Not bad. I've certainly heard a lot worse among the kids I taught." He shuddered at some of the ear-piercing memories. "Bloody high school plays. At least this girl actually hits the right notes."

"Well, she's decent for a kid. But she needs a lot of work for sure," Nomura commented. "Still, it's just nice to see young people appreciate the arts, you know."

"Where are her parents?" Walter asked. "It's half past one in the morning."

Nomura shrugged. "Who cares? The girl wants to sing, obviously."

"She has bruises on her neck," Walter observed.

Nomura froze.

"And her left arm," he continued.

"Let me see that!" Nomura shoved Walter aside. Her eyes shot to the girl's neck.

A scarf covered them, but the dark bruises barely peaked out above the colorful article. It was the same with the girl's long-sleeved blouse.

Nomura gaped.

"Why do you care?" Walter tested.

"Shut up!" Nomura growled. "I just – I…" she stopped. "It's nice to see kids these days haven't forgotten the arts!" she proclaimed again.

"I suppose. It's not like there's much you can do about this anyway," Walter said with a shrug.

Nomura crossed her arms and backed away from the peep-hole. She chewed on her bottom lip, doubt on her face.

Walter stared at her.

"What?!" Nomura challenged. "What am I supposed to do? Follow her home? Beat up her parents if they're the ones abusing her?" she asked.

Walter held her gaze. "Stay true to yourself," he said, echoing Peer Gynt. "It's up to you, Nomura. You're free now – free to do whatever you want with your life." He looked down at the girl. "Humans can be intriguing. You can keep an eye on her. Or don't. It's up to you." He stood up. "I'm going out for some air. I'll be waiting for you to join me on the roof." Walter headed out the way they'd entered, leaving a thoughtful Nomura alone with the girl's echoing voice, raised in yet another attempt at the same song.

Some time later, Nomura joined him atop the old building and they wove back through the city to New Trollmarket.

One last jump; one last flight. Time to start a new life for good.


	29. A beginning, an end

Walter concentrated on taking slow, even breaths. Why on earth had he said "yes" to this?

He stood in the most sacred place in New Trollmarket – next to the Heartstone. With him stood Blinky, holding his leader's staff. The partial strand of Christmas lights still adorned it, giving the object a certain element of eccentricity, just like Blinky. The other troll wore a big, black bowtie, poking out from under his chin. Perhaps it was his attempt at dressing up for the occasion even though he still wore the same worn-out trousers as always.

The rest of the room was filled with the trolls of New Trollmarket, seated on a host of mismatched chairs – no two of which were identical.

Claire stood in the front row, holding Emil who grinned up at her and babbled happily as she made baby noises at him.

Even Nomura was there, sitting near the middle of the assembly where she wouldn't be immediately noticed, but her green eyes still stood out to Walter as he surveyed the crowd.

He took another breath to steady his nerves. This was what Barbara wanted. Despite his dislike for being put on display like this, he was willing to do it for her.

His wings prevented him from wearing any sort of shirt; the best he'd been able to do was switch out his drab, brown cape for a nicer looking white one. He considered black, but after trying it on decided it made him look too much like a monster out of a movie. White was the best he could do.

The music started, and Walter was grateful it wasn't the traditional, bombastic bridal entrance. Nomura chose this song. Chopin's Clair de Lune played from her MP3 player now hooked up to a loud speaker so the soft tones of the piano could ring throughout the caves.

All the trolls stood.

Walter's nervous annoyance vanished, washed away by the sight of Barbara emerging from the back of the gathering. She walked arm in arm with Jim down the hastily-made aisle. She was… stunning. She'd told him her dress wasn't anything special – more of a summer dress than a wedding gown. It was white with a pattern of blue flowers, but the sight of her made him forget to breathe all the same. Her hair was elegantly arranged atop her head, allowing a few strands of red to frame her beautiful face.

Jim wore his Trollhunter armor, shining and spot-free.

As mother and son approached, the realization hit Walter – this was not some contrivance of his imagination; it was real.

When Barbara and Jim reached the Heartstone, they shared a hug before Jim stepped aside, taking his place next to Claire as the music ended.

Walter stared at his bride, dumbfounded. Barbara smiled at him, blushing just the slightest bit.

"Dearly beloved," Blinky started in a voice fitting any movie or TV-show. "We are gathered here today to witness the union between Barbara Lake and Waltolomew Stricklander."

Walter just managed to keep back a nervous gulp as he silently begged Blinky not to ruin this most important moment. Walter didn't know if he would be able to handle the other troll pulling some hair-brained shenanigan right now.

"This union," Blinky continued, "is a union that goes beyond all rhyme and reason, against all odds. These two met in the midst of war, one not even knowing she was ensconced in conflict and that the man in front of her was the enemy. Neither was she aware he was from another world – one of trolls and magic. His world and hers were so different that even the thought of them someday becoming one was not just unlikely, but impossible. That these two who circumstance made into enemies would find a way to become partners was even more unlikely."

Walter looked into Barbara's vivid, blue eyes.

Blinky went on. "However! If these events have proven anything, it is that there is something out there stronger than such differences, something so powerful it can bridge the barriers of different worlds. It is something stronger than war – than hate – than any creature in this world. That thing is love."

Walter stared at Blinky, astounded – impressed at the other troll's eloquence.

"Love can build bridges, bring even the most unlikely of people together. Love can change people either for the better, or for the worse. In this case, I fell the change was most certainly for the better! I think we all should take great inspiration from this," Blinky offered. "There is much more to our lives than war. We should all look to these two as shining examples of how to find a new and better way to live our lives. They, who, against all odds, found love, nurtured it, and bring it here today so we may witness the fruit of their hard work." Blinky looked from Walter to Barbara. "It is my honor and privilege to oversee this union. War brought these two together, but love – That is what kept them together, and now it will aid them in building something different, something new! A family! A son! Two sons, in fact! May the second one turn out just as marvelous and wonderful as the first! Now," Blinky motioned for Claire to step forward. "The rings please."

Claire passed Emil to Jim, then picked up a pillow. On it rested a pair of wedding bands. She took the rings to Walter and Barbara.

"Now, Waltolomew Stricklander," Blinky said. "Wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife? To live together after God's ordinance in the Holy Estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her? Comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others keep thee only unto her as long as you both shall live?" Blinky asked.

Walter never took his eyes off Barbara. "I do."

"And, Barbara Lake," Blinky continued. "Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband to live together after God's ordinance in the Holy Estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love him? Comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others keep thee only unto him as long as you both shall live?"

Barbara's eyes glowed with joy as she looked up at Walter. "I do."

"You may now exchange rings," Blinky said.

Barbara and Walter carefully picked up each other's bands. Walter slipped the gold ring onto Barbara's finger and she slid his on.

"I hereby declare you husband and wife! You may now kiss the bride," Blinky said as Walter leaned forward. The pair kissed as well as they could.

Cheers and enthusiastic whoops erupted from the crowd.

Claire sniffed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "And I promised not to cry." She swiped at her eyes and nose with her sleeve.

Even Nomura clandestinely wiped her eyes with a handkerchief.

Jim held Emil, eyes wet. He tried to snort back his tears.

They weren't alone; several trolls wailed, especially Dictatious, seated, ignored, on the last row. The only one crying even more than Dictatous though was NotEnrique whom was absolutely disolving into tears as he openly wailed and cried.

Blinky smiled at the couple before him, just as touched as the audience. He cleared his throat. "One action remains," he declared, holding out a vial of silver liquid.

Walter nodded and took it. Barbara watched him wide-eyed as Blinky fetched a basin of water and gave it to Barbara. She held on to it tightly as Walter pulled the cork out of the vial and let the contents flow into the water. He mixed it thoroughly until the water turned from sparkling silver to snowy white.

"I'm just going to stand over here," Blinky said nervously, eyeing the magical water. He stepped far enough away so there was no chance he would accidently be exposed to it.

Walter met Barbara's nervous gaze. Just as they'd planned, he placed his hands over hers and together they raised the basin, but before the water tipped out, Barbara hesitated.

Walter looked down at her, a soft smile gracing his face. "It's going to be alright," he assured. "This was my decision; it's what I want."

"Are you… sure?" Barbara asked.

Walter nodded. "I've been over this, many times, and I'm not changing my mind," he replied. "I want to spend every day with you. I love you so much. I want us to live life together, raise Emil together. So, let's do this together, like we planned."

Barbara nodded. She pushed the basin up just a bit higher and tipped it, spilling the contents all over Walter, soaking every inch of him in the magical solution.

Barbara put down the now empty basin. "How do you feel? Any different?" She looked him up and down.

"It'll take a while before the effects are visible. I feel fine, just a slight buzzing for the moment." Walter looked down at his still-clawed hands.

"And with that!" Blinky announced from his spot farther away from the couple. "I hereby, as leader of Trollmarket, recognize these two as mates!"

The audience exploded in applause and cheers again.

"Here, Mr. Strickler." Claire offered Walter a towel.

"Thank you." He started drying himself off.

"So, should we head to the plaza?" Jim asked, handing Emil back to Claire. "They've prepared a feast there. It's customary for trolls to feast after a pair are declared mates, and, well… trolls don't like to be denied feasts. Also… I prepared some food for you, mom," he said. "And you too, Walter," he turned to his step-father. "I wasn't sure how long it would take you to turn into a human."

"I appreciate the thought," he replied. "It seems it will be some time before any effects are visible."

"I guess there should be more than enough troll food, so we're good." Jim gave Walter and his mother a lop-sided grin.

Claire's face fell. "I didn't manage to finish my present," she said. "Sorry. It has to wait a few days."

Barbara smiled at the girl. "I'm sure what you have in mind is going to be wonderful." She held out her arms. "Here. Let me take Emil."

"That's alright," Claire smiled at the baby. "He's so cute, and this is your day. I'll take him so you can go eat Jim's delicious food."

"Okay then," Barbara said, taking Walter's arm. "Come on. We don't want to be late to our own feast."

 

* * *

 

 

A civilized affair, troll feasts were not. Table manners were unheard of. The result was a host of trolls seated at long tables, scarfing down whatever was within reach.

Barbara didn't seem to mind at all as she happily ate the Wellington Jim prepared for her, Claire and Walter, whose plate went untouched. In fact, he didn't eat anything at all. Instead, he'd persuaded Claire to give up Emil, and he sat next to Barbara, holding his son.

Barbara chatted with the guests for a while, then turned her attention to Blinky. "That was a wonderful speech."

"You think so?" Blinky asked. "Well, I did my best to bring out the positive."

Walter raised an eyebrow at the six-eyed troll. "Who helped you write it?" he asked. "Was it Claire?"

"What?! Why, I never!" Blinky exclaimed. "I didn't require any help! I am a master of speeches!" He folded his four arms, indignant.

"Really?" Walter asked, doubtful.

"It's true." Claire chuckled. "I wanted to help him, but he insisted he didn't need it. He refused to even let me see what he wrote." She sighed. "That did turn out way better than I thought it would, thank God."

"What?" Blinky gaped. "Has no one any confidence in my abilities?"

Jim chuckled. "It's okay, Blinky. You just… Sometimes you go a bit overboard."

"I do not!" Blinky protested, only to make Jim laugh harder.

"In either case, I am impressed," Walter admitted. "Never would I have guessed you had it in you, Blinkous."

"Why is it I feel offended?" Blinky asked suspiciously.

Walter smirked, but as he started to say something in reply, black spots dotted his vision. He shook his head to clear them away.

"Walt?" Barbara asked. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, just a slight dizzy spell," Walter assured holding his forehead. A wave of drowsiness hit him, and he shook his head again, trying to shake it off. It didn't help.

"Hey, look at me," Barbara instructed. Walter did as she said only to see her eyes widen as he looked at her.

"What?" Walter asked. "What is it?"

"You... Your eyes," Barbara gasped. "They aren't glowing anymore, and they're… green."

"Oh," Walter replied, keeping his tone neutral.

Emil made gurgling sounds at him, but he barely registered them, so distracting was the encroaching need for sleep.

"Maybe you should go rest," Barbara said.

"Yes. Yes, I think you might be right." Walter held out his son. "Would someone take Emil?"

"I've got him!" Claire exclaimed, eagerly taking the baby.

Walter nodded his gratitude and stood to leave only to stumble upon his first step.

"Walt!" Barbara rushed to support him.

"Sorry." Walter gasped for air.

"Okay. That's it! You're going to bed right now," Barbara insisted.

Walter didn't dare object.

"Would you look after Emil?" Barbara asked Jim and Claire. "I'm going to make sure Walt's alright."

"Sure, Mom." Jim nodded.

Barbara pulled Walter's arm up over her shoulder, guiding him out of the plaza and over to the small, makeshift house they were using during their stay.

Many eyes followed them – Nomura, Jim, Claire, Blinky… They already knew this was the last they would see of Walter in this form. The silent farewell was bittersweet.

As Barbara reached their little borrowed house she managed to get Walter inside. She dragged him onto the bed. He groaned, too tired to move.

"You doing okay there, sweetie?" Barbara asked.

Walter nodded, eyes closed.

Barbara grabbed a blanket and laid it over him. She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you, Walt. Rest well."

Walter gave her the barest nod and managed to mutter, "Love you too… Barbara…" before he fell asleep.

Barbara looked down at the green face she'd come to know so well this past year. She noted his pointed ears and the elegant markings that ran across his body. She touched him, feeling the harsh stone beneath her fingertips and following the slightly grooved mark that ran down his arm.

With a sigh, she pulled the blanket up over Walter's shoulders. She kissed him one more time before heading back to the plaza, allowing her husband the privacy he needed for what was to come.


	30. Dreams

_Darkness…. stones…. dripping water… Deep underground, far away from humans – so far down humans wouldn't even know of it – that was where trolls lived._

_Walter travelled down a deep tunnel. The wind rushed by, carrying with it the sounds of battle. Voices echoed in the air and battle cries rang out. He heard heavy swords smashing down on trolls' heads, shattering their stony forms and flinging a hundred tiny shards in all directions._

_"FOR THE GLORY OF GUNMAR!" He heard a Gum-gum roar. The shout was matched by another impassioned cry, "BY DEYA'S GRACE!"_

_Just up ahead, two armies crashed toward each other, killing and maiming for their cause._

_Walter followed the noise until the tunnel opened into a vast cavern. A great throne stood at the other end of the open space. Statues ringed the throne, but Walter realized they weren't just statutes, but dead trolls, displayed as trophies._

_Next to the throne stood a young troll, wearing a savage grin. Bular._

_On the throne sat… Bular's father. He was massive. His single, burning eye bored into Walter as a bone-chilling growl rumbled up from deep within the huge beast._

_Acting on instinct, Walter fell to his knees before his former master. "Gunmar, the mightiest and most powerful –"_

_"Stricklander!"_

_Walter quaked at Gunmar's voice, fear ringing through his changeling frame._

_"You disappoint me," the troll bellowed._

_"What?" Walter dared a glance at the great troll. "How? What did I do that displeased you so much? I followed all your orders, did I not?" he asked. "I – ARGH!"_

_Gunmar's giant fingers wrapped around Walter's throat, squelching his voice. The floor disappeared out from under his feet as Gunmar lifted him up. Walter struggled against the merciless hand._

_"My –" Walter gurgled. "My dark master –"_

_"So, you think you can just leave me?" Gunmar scoffed. "You can't. You belong to me." The blazing eye cut into Walter's soul._

_"Yes, my dark, most gracious lord." Walter squealed as his air dwindled._

_"Your entire existence – it is mine to control and mine to demand." Gunmar grinned. "Or, have you forgotten?"_

_"No," Walter assured, fighting for another gasp of air. "I – I live to serve you. It is my deepest honor to do so."_

_"Is it really though?" Gunmar asked. "Then tell me what I want to hear."_

_"Hngh!" Walter grabbed Gunmar's hand as the crushing grip tightened, cutting off the last of his air supply. "I – I –" he wheezed._

_"Why, Stricklander? Why would you betray me?" Gunmar growled._

_Walter felt the grip loosen just enough for him to draw in another short breath. "Are you really so stupid?" Walter managed. "I – hate – you. I always hated you." He sucked in another breath. "I despise you – With every fiber of my being, I've always despised you."_

_Gunmar sneered at Walter but allowed him just enough air to continue._

_"From the very beginning you didn't care about changelings. Hngh!" he hissed as Gunmar's grip tightened again. Walter's eyes glowed brilliant yellow as he defiantly declared, "You didn't even care about your fellow trolls. You're a monster." He bared his fangs at Gunmar. "I'm glad you're gone! No words can describe how happy I am that I witnessed your demise! You're dead!"_

_"Oh, am I?" Gunmar asked. "Why then do I still live inside your mind? I am not gone, Impure. I am always with you, just as I always have been. You can't leave me behind. There is no escape from me."_

_Walter fought Gunmar's crushing grip. Black spots dotted his vision and he could feel unconsciousness settling over him._

_Gunmar let go._

_Walter plummeted through a thick darkness. He closed his eyes, trying to fend off the sensation of freefall. The feeling stopped._

_When he opened his eyes again he found himself in his human form. He stood in a classroom, staring at a chalkboard as he said, "The battle of Killahead Bridge, took place at the beginning of the first millennium, year one thousand. To observers, it appeared to be a battle between trolls. Little did people know the actual cause of the war was a feud between wizards." He turned around to look at the children seated around his classroom. They all looked incredibly bored._

_One boy was asleep, his head resting atop his closed book. A trail of drool dripped from his mouth as he snorted. The boy just turned thirteen a few days before, and he looked quite a mess with his unruly hair and the puddle of drool soaking his textbook._

_"Ahem!" Walter cleared his throat. The boy started away with a surprised yelp._

_"I'm sorry!" he exclaimed as the rest of the class laughed._

_"Jim Lake." Walter looked down at his own textbook. "Something you wish to share with the class?"_

_The boy blushed, looking back at Walter with wide eyes._

_"Mr. Strickler!" The chubby, red-haired boy next to Jim waved for Walter's attention. "It's not his fault. His mom was out working the entire night and Jimbo stayed up waiting for her, so he could cook her something to eat."_

_Walter was taken aback. "Is this true?" he asked. "Mr. Lake?"_

_"Yes," young Jim admitted, blushing again. "It's just… If Mom doesn't eat when she gets home, she won't eat at all." He looked at Walter with pleading eyes._

_Walter sighed. "Mr. Lake, it's not your job to look after your mother." As he spoke, something behind Jim caught Walter's eye. He froze when he realized what it was._

_Otto Scaarbach grinned at Walter, his eyes shining a sinister yellow._

_"I know," Jim said, oblivious to his teacher's change in demeanor. "But… She gets so stressed. And tired."_

_Walter caught another flash of light off to his right. He looked. Another set of glowing eyes stared at him. Then another, and another. Every student in the room was a changeling – all except Jim who didn't seem to notice a thing out of the ordinary._

_"Her job is really important. She saves lives," Jim continued as the changelings grinned and sneered._

_"Stricklander," a voice whispered next to him._

_To Walter's left a female changeling stood not a foot away. "The Trollhunter – Gunmar demands that you must kill him." She pointed at Jim._

_The textbook was replaced by the weight of a knife settling in his hand as he looked down at the teenager._

_"I can handle it!" Jim said. "I always deliver my homework on time, don't I? So, there's no problem."_

_Murderous whispers surrounded Walter as the changelings looked on. "Kill him." "Kill the Trollhunter." "He is at your mercy." "Why don't you kill him?"_

_The host of watching eyes stared at him, expectant. He could not afford a single misstep, but Jim's innocent face and sincere desire to help his mother gave Walter pause._

_"KILL HIM!" the changeling host commanded._

_His old urges overtook him, and Walter raised the knife. He thrust it down, but something in him compelled him to stop a bare millimeter from Jim's surprised face._

_The boy stared at him in shock, his eyes filled with hurt and betrayal._

_"Why…?" Jim asked. "Why are you trying to kill me?"_

_Walter's knife still hovered as the changelings glared. A thousand yellow eyes demanded he kill this boy. He had no choice. Walter narrowed his eyes and turned away for a moment. When he looked back at Jim, the boy was now sixteen. He stared down Walter with defiant, angry eyes._

_"Oh, so now you hesitate?" Jim asked. "Why the difference? You've killed so many others, haven't you? Is it because you didn't knew those people – so that their deaths wouldn't matter?" Jim challenged. "That's pathetic!" Jim stood, his Trollhunter armor shining. Then his form changed, shifting to his hybrid state._

_Heedless of Walter's blade, Jim held up the sword of Daylight._

_"Jim..." Walter stumbled back. "I don't want to fight you."_

_"Too late for that now, isn't it?" Jim asked, his voice deeper than it should have been. "You did this; they are dead because of you!" In Jim's place stood a blue changeling – Alberto. He sneered at Walter. "What kind of changeling doesn't want to fight? We exist only to battle for the glory of Gunmar, and you couldn't even kill one little Trollhunter."_

_Walter eyed the shadows surrounding him, filled with the changelings he'd failed to appease._

_"No." Walter backed away. "You don't understand. Killing the Trollhunter won't help our cause. It will only ensure the rise of another Trollhunter. This makes no sense."_

_"Impure!" Gunmar appeared again, roaring._

_"No!" Walter held his head in his hands, now green and troll-like again. "You're dead!" he insisted. "You're gone from this world!"_

_"I am the world," Gunmar countered. "Or rather, I am your world. You exist to serve me. All you do – all you are – every action you take is decided by me. Fail me and you have no purpose. You must obey. You cannot escape!"_

_"No!" Walter spread his wings and took off only to feel a hand grasp his leg. Alberto! Walter looked down to find the other changeling clinging to his ankle._

_"I won't let you get away!" Alberto shouted as another pair of changeling hands grabbed Walter, dragging him down. More hands latched on to him, pulling so hard Walter thought his leg would break._

_"No! NOOO! Let go of me!" Walter pleaded to no avail. He was swallowed by a sea of yellow-eyed changelings._

_Claws and teeth tore at him. Sneering faces hissed and growled. Walter roared at them all as he realized he had no choice now. He grabbed his knives, slashing at his assailants, but there were so many of them. They came at him from all sides, merciless._

_Trolls, goblins, stalklings, and more glowing-eyed magical creatures than he could count swarmed over him, their sharp teeth snapping. Walter sliced through one after another. Green ichor covered him, and his wounds shone purple. The staggering reek was so strong several monsters hung back, but Walter ignored the smell of death. Caught up in the rush of battle, he sliced his way through the horde, forgetting himself, his reason. He would have forgotten his own name if it hadn't been for the single voice ringing through the violence, bringing him back to his senses._

_"Walt!"_

_Walter's head shot up. Red hair caught his eye. There she was, holding a baby as she looked at him with wide eyes, seeing it all – the blood and gore covering him, dripping from his claws and blades – the emerald blood smeared across his chest and spattering his face._

_Walter expected her to look disgusted – to turn away. But she reached out a hand toward him. He swallowed hard. She wasn't disgusted; she was… sad._

_"Walt," she called again, speaking his name with such urgency he couldn't mistake the worry in her voice._

_He desperately tried to reach for her, to get away from the horde of golden eyes, but the beasts dragged his back._

_"That life is not for you," one voice chided._

_"You're a cold-blooded killer – an animal – a troll!" another accused._

_A third hissed in his ear, "You cannot escape!"_

_"No!" Walter threw off his assailants and angrily turned to face the swarm. "Sometimes you do have to fight," he said. He took a deep breath, letting his body relax, then he continued calmly, almost quietly, "But that is not always the case." He let his knives clatter to the ground and bowed his head, eyes closed._

_"What?!" the voices exclaimed. "You must fight! It is your nature; it is why you exist!"_

_"Maybe… that is true. It is why I was created; it is why I am here." Walter took another breath. "But, you can't force me to fight."_

_"What?!" Gunmar's yell boomed through the room and the Gum-gum king's enormous shadow fell in front of Walter._

_The horde retreated into the shadows, but their eyes stayed fastened on Walter and Gunmar._

_"You can't do this! You must fight! It's your nature!" bellowed Gunmar._

_"I don't want to fight anymore," Walter replied wearily._

_"Want to?!" Gunmar roared. "You have no wants! You can't decide for yourself. Look!" he demanded as another green troll appeared at Gunmar's feet._

_The newcomer was Walter's exact duplicate, but instead of standing upright, the double crouched on all fours, teeth bared in a sneer. His eyes shone with treacherous yellow light and an animal growl emanated from his throat._

_"This!" Gunmar pointed to the other troll. "This is you! You're just going to leave that behind?" he asked as Walter's double growled and hissed, crawling around as it spread its wings and shook them threateningly, sending a gust of air crashing into Walter's face._

_Walter beheld the spectacle for a moment before turning away, feeling only sorrow for the poor, dumb creature before him. He looked back at Barbara, Emil in her arms. His human-self stood next to her. Walter smiled at the sight and took a step toward his wife, his son, and his other self._

_"Stop!" Gunmar commanded. "You can't just walk away!"_

_Walter walked steadily toward the waiting three, paying Gunmar no heed._

_"I demand you stop!" Gunmar's guttural yell spurred the watching changelings to echo their lord's words._

_"You're one of us!" they pleaded from the darkness. "You belong here! Stay! Don't leave!"_

_Walter didn't even hesitate. He reached out to Barbara and she took his hand, meeting his gaze with a warm smile. Walter saw his human form standing before him with serious eyes._

_"No!" Gunmar demanded again. "Don't do it! Stop!"_

_His former master's call fell on deaf ears. "I am done taking orders from you," Walter replied, defiant._

_He held up his stony, green hand. His human-self echoed the movement. Walter closed his eyes. The moment their palms met, Walter felt his body begin to melt away._

_When he opened his eyes, his troll form was gone, and he was his human-self, standing with Barbara. He smiled down at his beautiful wife and laid a hand on her shoulder._

_"So, it's done," Barbara said softly, looking up at him. "You did it. There's no going back now."_

_Walter reached down and held Barbara's chin. "Why on earth would I ever want to go back to that?" he asked, leaning over and kissing his phantom wife._

_The world around him faded into black._

 

Walter groaned and cracked open his eyes. Everything was blurry. He blinked a few times and his vision cleared.

He was sore, stiff. With a yawn, he sat up, stretching his arms. He'd slept for quite a while, but he still felt exhausted. It was like he'd just woken up from a vivid dream, but he couldn't remember any of it.

Walter froze. Yesterday… The wedding! Had that… been real? Or was it just some glorious dream?

Walter looked down at his hand. Wide-eyed, he stared at pink, human flesh. He checked his other hand, then his arms, his chest. He touched his head and felt no horns, licked his teeth and found no fangs.

Overwhelmed, Walter held his face in his hands. Merlin's magic worked.

When the wave of disbelief passed he looked up and discovered the clothes left for him, draped over a nearby chair. A simple, white t-shirt and a pair of dark blue pants accompanied black socks and shoes.

Walter took the clothes and got dressed quickly, relishing the sensation of pulling the shirt over his head and feeling the fabric on his skin again. There were no wings to get in the way anymore.

He looked around, trying to find Barbara. His wife didn't seem to be there... His… wife...

Walter couldn't keep back the smile. She was his wife! He was married! Well, not officially among humans, but it still felt legitimate.

Noting his empty finger, Walter eagerly searched for his wedding ring. He let out a sigh of relief when he found it tucked safely in a box sitting on the chair. He took it out and slipped it onto his ring finger. The band was heavy, but it fit perfectly, bringing with it a feeling of contentment he could never hope to match again.

Walter looked around for a mirror. One hung on the back wall. He stepped in front of it and was faced with his very human reflection.

Instead of yellow, glowing eyes, Walter's clear green ones looked back at him. He recognized his slight build and well-defined features, but… some things looked different. The changes were subtle, but he didn't look exactly like he had when he'd worn his human form before.

Walter turned his head to get a better look at his face. He was most definitely himself, but some of his features looked… softer? The difference was nearly impossible to put into words.

What time was it?

Walter looked around for his cell and found it near the bed. It was 5:14 PM. He'd fallen asleep around four in the afternoon yesterday. He'd been asleep for over twenty-four hours. No wonder Barbara hadn't been waiting for him.

At the thought of his beautiful wife, he smiled and headed outside.

Trolls went about their daily routines. A few gave him strange looks, but he was largely ignored.  
Walter couldn't help but smirk at his sudden anonymity as he put his hands in his pockets and went in search of his wife.

He reached the plaza they'd been in the day before and his eyes lit up at the sight.

There she was. He caught sight of her red hair immediately. She sat in a chair holding Emil tightly. She looked very tired, her head dipping, eyes barely open.

A pang of sympathy went through Walter's chest. Poor Barbara. Had she been awake these last twenty-four hours worrying? It would be so much like her.

Walter went to Barbara as her head drooped again.

"Do you want me to take Emil for a while?" he asked gently.

Barbara's eyes shot open and she screamed, so startled she fell out of the chair.

"Augh!" she yelped, now sitting on the ground, her hair in disarray and glasses askew, Emil still held tightly.

Walter looked down at her. Barbara saw him and screamed again, sending Walter back a step. "Walt!" she exclaimed.

For a short moment, Walter looked down at Barbara in shock as her face echoed his surprise. Then the startled expression vanished as she looked him up and down before her eyes settled on his face.

Concerned, Walter asked, "Are you alright, Barbara?"

Barbara nodded, and Walter bent down to offer her a hand. She took it. He pulled her to her feet, noting the added effort it took now that his troll half was gone.

Barbara gaped at Walter as he looked nervously back at his wife, unsure of what she was thinking.

"Walt, you…" Barbara breathed. "You're awake! Thank God!"

"Heh. Yes. Seems like I've been out for more than a day," Walter said, a bit embarrassed. "I feel fine now though; you don't need to worry."

"Are you sure?" Barbara asked in an uncertain voice.

"Yes. Here, let me take him." He eased Emil out of Barbara's arms. "You look like you need some rest." Walter looked down at the child, pride rising in his chest as he smiled at the baby before looking back up at Barbara.

Her eyes sparkled with happiness as she leaned over and planted her lips on Walter's in a short kiss before she stepped back and said with a smirk, "Looking good, husband."

"And you look very tired, wife." Walter retorted with a grin.

"What was I supposed to do? You were using dangerous transformation magic on yourself. My experiences with things like that have not been good!" Barbara lifted an accusing finger at him. The next instant she beamed again. "Walter," she exclaimed. "We're married! Can you believe it?!"

"I'm not sure, to be honest," Walter admitted, matching her excited grin.

"Oh, Walt, just look at you!" Barbara took a step back to get a better view of Walter holding Emil. "Look at us! We're a family – a real family!"

The same overwhelming sense of joy that came over him back at the house washed through him again and he couldn't help but smile so brightly it made him just a little bit embarrassed.

"I have a handsome husband and two handsome sons!" Barbara declared, overjoyed. "How lucky am I?"

"I am the lucky one here," Walter insisted as he went to Barbara and kissed her on the forehead, making his wife blush. "Now," he said. "Let me be a good husband and take of things while you get some rest."

Barbara nodded reluctantly. "Okay… I'll go lay down. It's been a while since Emil last ate, so he'll probably be hungry again soon. The bottle's in there," she said, pointing to the bag hanging on the chair. "Left, inside pocket."

"I can handle it," Walter assured. "You already taught me all of this, remember? And besides, he's my son too. What kind of father would I be if I couldn't handle my own son for a few hours?"

Barbara gave him an amused look and nodded. "You're right. Sorry." Her eyes lingered on Walter's face.

"What is it?" Walter asked.

"It's… been a while," Barbara smiled, but then she frowned. "Is it just me, or do you look a little bit different?" she asked. "You're… um… I'm not even sure how to describe it," she admitted, crossing her arms, studying him.

"Well, we spent an entire year together. You saw me every day as a troll. Perhaps you just got used to it," Walter offered. "I'm sure it'll be fine. We'll have a bit of re-adjusting to do, but we knew that already."

"I suppose so," Barbara admitted. "We'll be fine. I know it." She smiled.

Walter returned her smile as Barbara's eyes shone.

When she showed no signs of leaving he cleared his throat.

"Right. Gonna go get some sleep," Barbara said as she walked past Walter, only to stop and plant a kiss on his cheek, just like she'd done so many times before. Then she headed for their temporary house.

Walter looked at the baby in his arms. "Well, it's just the two of us for a while," he said.

Emil's innocent eyes stared up at Walter. The baby looked… shocked. Usually Emil lit up at the sight of him, but right now, the child looked uneasy.

"Emil?" Walter asked, concerned. "It's just me, Walt," he offered, then tired, "Dad?"

The baby still looked confused. The sound of Walter's voice didn't seem to help much.

Walter cleared his throat and spoke again, this time adding a bit of gruffness to his voice. "The big, bad troll – he's coming to get you!" he teased, his voice louder now that he had to concentrate on speaking more like his old self.

Emil gaped for a moment, then laughed, clapping his hands.

Walter sighed and reached down to tuck Emil into his blanket a little more as he noticed for the first time, the chill air of New Trollmarket. "Well, Dad has been sleeping for twenty-four hours and he's hungry. Let's go look for some food for Dad before it's time for you to eat, shall we?" He picked up the bag Barbara pointed to earlier and slung it over his shoulder.

His glad heart couldn't keep from singing as he again felt the weight of his wedding band. Here he stood, fully human, holding a happy baby – his son.

Everything was going to be fine. He could feel it.


	31. re-aquint

The sound of a happily giggling baby met Jim's ears as he rounded a corner, on his way to check on his mom and new little brother. His eyes snapped open in surprise.

He'd expected to see his mom holding Emil, but instead, there, atop a flat stone, sat Strickler, offering the baby a bottle, which the little one happily took as a very human-looking Walter held it in place.

Jim blinked hard and shook his head. He was so used to seeing Strickler in his troll form that the image before him was foreign. That, or perhaps it was the ease with which the former changeling handled the baby.

Walter looked up at Jim with amused, green eyes. "Ah, Young Atlas," he greeted, his voice deep and smooth – much more like the Strickler Jim remembered.

"Walter." Jim remembered to call his new step-father by his first name. "You're up. That's great. We were starting to worry about you."

Walter nodded. "Understandable. My apologies. I had no idea I would sleep for so long," he admitted, eyes returning to Emil.

Jim didn't know what to feel about what he was seeing. The picture painted before him was so happy, peaceful – completely normal and mundane. No one would ever believe this man, holding his adopted infant son, was formerly a troll.

When Jim first met Strickler, he would never have believed it either. This man, his British History teacher, kept an eye on him at school and offered help when Jim needed it. When Strickler found out Jim stayed up late to wait for his over-worked mother, the man began allowing Jim to sleep in class uninterrupted. Strickler wouldn't encourage Jim's frequent naps, but he wouldn't draw attention to them either.

Whenever Jim slept through a class, he would always find a note later that day detailing what he'd missed so he could catch up at home that night. Strickler gave him an open-ended offer of help with his homework, inviting Jim to come see him any time during his office hours. That was when the nickname "Young Atlas" was bestowed.

Jim hadn't used the offer of homework help too much, but he'd gone a few times. It was reassuring to know Strickler was always ready to help him, to give Jim the benefit of the doubt and take his side in front of the other teachers. Back then… before the amulet… Strickler had only ever been supportive of him. Jim used to secretly wish Walter was his real father.

"Where's Mom?" Jim asked, assuming Walter had already talked to her – hence him watching Emil.

"Gone to bed," Strickler replied. "She was exhausted. I think we should let her sleep."

"Yeah. She was pretty worried about you," Jim said. "She wouldn't let anyone in to see what was happening to you. Looks like the potion worked."

Walter smirked. "Many things can be said about Merlin – much of which is far from complementary. He's unpredictable and shamelessly manipulative; however, his magic is indeed rather potent. I would never doubt his magical ability."

"So…" Jim eyed Walter. "There's no troll left in you at all?" he asked. "You can't – you know… change? The glowy eyes and all that stuff…?"

Walter closed his eyes, making the same motion he usually would to bring on his change from one form to the other. Nothing happened.

He opened his eyes again and made another effort. "Doesn't seem like it. That was the plan though. It's exactly what Merlin said would happen."

"Wow. So… no powers," Jim concluded, slightly stunned. "Are you feeling alright? Any side effects?"

Walter's amused eyes lingered on Emil. "I'm a bit sore, and tired, but it's nothing to be concerned about." He met Jim's gaze with a light smile.

It struck Jim how sincere Strickler was – the way he talked, his genuine smile. There was something about him that was fundamentally different now, but Jim couldn't pinpoint it. It felt… strange, but in a good way.

Jim used to think Walter was sincere before this all began, but then he'd learned differently. He'd discovered Stickler's tricks and found out his smile and pretty words were a front, used to manipulate those around him. But now… This wasn't the Walter Strickler Jim used to know. Once secretly a troll, this man was now fully human. Even the air around him felt different. Jim didn't know what to do. Should he stay and talk? Or walk away?

"If you have a moment, would you mind telling me a bit about your education?" Walter asked. "I want to know how much you remember. Then I'll know where we should pick up."

Relief washed over Jim as Walter chose something to talk about. "Well… to be honest, my last school year is really fuzzy. I was kind of busy with Trollhunter stuff most of the time."

"Alright then," Walter said. "I suppose we should focus on subjects you'll need for college preparation: English, Math, History, and preferably a foreign language. You're quite adequate with Spanish, are you not?"

Jim nodded. "It helps having Claire around." He sat down in front of Strickler, legs crossed as he looked up at his step-father. "Can you teach those other subjects?" he asked. "I mean, you're a History teacher, right?"

"Our goal is to make you capable of passing a written exam. The education of the teacher matters very little," Walter informed. "But if you are concerned, I do speak several languages, including Spanish, and while Math was never my forte, I have helped other students with it before."

Jim blinked in surprise. "I didn't know you spoke more languages."

Walter laughed. "I lived in many different countries," he reminded Jim. "My true first language is Trollish, not English."

"So, you didn't always live in Arcadia?" Jim asked.

"No, I didn't." Walter shook his head. "Though I did move back at regular intervals. Headquarters was there, close to the Killahead Bridge and Trollmarket. I most recently moved back ten years before I became your teacher because the completion of Killahead bridge was nearing its completion, and I had to keep an eye on it."

"What were you doing before that?" Jim asked, curious.

"I posed as a university professor in Cambridge, England," Walter supplied. "Philosophy and History. The teacher and student bodies had strong ties to England's government. Students there were groomed to become the rising political class of England. It was the ideal place to influence young men and women's views early, so it would be possible to cash in favors later. And it was a good position to look out for pieces belonging to Killahead Bridge."

Jim shivered at the idea of just how far the reach of the changelings used to be. It was unnerving to think about. "I guess that explains your accent," he commented with an awkward smile.

"Truth be told, most changelings retain the accent of the country they originally grew up in, even if that was hundreds of years ago," Strickler admitted. "Besides, I saw no reason to change it. I always quite liked it in fact. Now, about your classes, Young Atlas." Walter pointed Emil's half-empty bottle at Jim. "English, Math, Spanish and History, those will be our focus for now," he said. "Do we have a deal?"

"Deal!" Jim beamed.

Emil uttered a dissatisfied wail at being deprived of his bottle. Walter gave it back to him.

Jim smiled. This wasn't so bad – not at all.

Over the next few hours, Jim asked Walter question after question, knowing he had to use this limited time with Strickler wisely. Eventually, Claire joined them, her eyes brightening at the sight of a human Walter.

"Looking good, Mr. Strickler. I see it worked!" she said, immediately turning her attention to the baby. "Emil!" she exclaimed. "Hello, little cutie." She grinned as she pulled a rattle out of the diaper bag and waved it in front of the baby's face as he giggled.

Jim watched his little brother. The kid already had everyone wrapped around his tiny finger, and he even seemed to know it. Jim supposed Emil had to enjoy it while he could. Something told him that once Emil got a little older, Stricker's stricter side would emerge.

"Hang in there, kiddo. He's not so bad," Jim whispered as Claire cooed over the little boy in Walter's arms.


	32. daylight

This feeling was strange to Walter – genuine peace.

Jim and Claire had taken Emil for a while. Walter was glad. Jim didn't have a lot of time to bond with his little brother; it was good to see him taking the opportunity while he had it.

Walter strode across Trollmarket, hands in his pockets. Did he dare venture outside? He could go buy a little something for his beautiful wife while she slept. Flowers maybe.

He didn't get very far before a green-eyed, pink-skinned troll approached him. Walter gave her an amused look.

"I forgot how ugly you are as a human," Nomura said.

Walter laughed. "Well, fair is fair I suppose. I assume you don't want to give it a go?"

"And be stuck like that forever? You must have eaten nails!" Nomura exclaimed, then said more quietly, "You do seem happy. That's good… I'm… glad…" She smiled just a little. "Huh." She gave a thoughtful grunt. "I actually am glad. How surprising."

Walter gave her a smile. "The day you find your chance at happiness, take it," he encouraged. "We can be more than Gunmar's impure pawns."

"Yeah… I see that." Nomura nodded. "It's… pretty nice." She smiled back. "So, we're free to do whatever – even become human and raise a child."

A grin spread over Walter's face. "Seems unbelievable, doesn't it? Who would have thought it?"

"Certainly not me," Nomura stated. "Heh! So, I suppose anything's possible. That's…" she stopped short, a thoughtful finger on her chin. "That's actually quite scary."

"You're resilient, Nomura. I'm sure you'll figure out what you want to do," said Walter. "So, you went to check on your little human friend?" he asked.

Nomura's face twisted into a pout. She crossed her arms and looked away, giving Walter the answer he was looking for without saying a word.

"What did you find out?" Walter asked casually.

"Her name is Joan Callas," Nomura muttered. "Her mom is trash, sleeping around with gang members. Her father is long gone – he's even worse trash than Joan's mother. There's a boyfriend – the pig – calls everyone a hoe. Joan has to keep her passion a secret. It's considered uncool." Nomura snorted. "Their apartment is overrun with other gang members, drinking and smoking crack. It's a disgusting hole in the ground. The sewers would be better."

Walter gave Nomura a sympathetic look.

"There's no way she'll last in an environment like that." Nomura let out a deep sigh. "Real shame too… She's a nice girl. She even has two brothers, one older, one younger, both from different fathers. They're already involved in the gangs." She glared at Walter. "Why would you let me get involved in something this appalling?" she asked. "What good can it possibly bring?"

"I don't know," Walter admitted. "I'm not the one who chose to get involved – you did that yourself. I just reminded you to stay true to yourself."

Nomura started to object but stopped. She couldn't argue the truth of his words.

Walter shrugged. "All I'm saying is I can't force you to do anything. It's completely up to you."

"I really hate you," Nomura growled.

"Of course, you do," Walter smirked back, not buying her act. "I'm going to the surface. You want anything?"

"Pfft! No," Nomura looked at him, incredulous. "Why would I want something from up there?"

"It was only polite to ask." Walter chuckled.

 

* * *

 

 

Walter looked over his shoulder at the entrance to Trollmarket, then at the empty alley street in front of him. The pavement was bathed in sunlight and only a thin line separated his shadowy retreat from the blazing rays of daylight.

In a way, it made sense. To gain something extraordinary, one must give up something else equally precious. The price for the near immortality of trollkind, the unbridled strength to live through almost anything, and their magical abilities… was to be forever deprived of walking under the light of the sun.

It was a steep price, but a fair one.

The existence of Changelings chested the whole system. They were able to enjoy the advantages of both humanity and trollkind. They possessed great physical strength and long life-spans while having the ability to traverse the surface during daylight hours.

He didn't wonder trolls found it unnatural. It was.

Walter reached out a tentative hand. The sun fell on it, warm and welcoming. One short year – it felt like forever ago since he'd walked in daylight.

He stepped into the sunlight, letting the rays bathe him in their warmth. He closed his eyes, savoring the sensation before he started down the street.

A few steps later, something caught Walter's attention. A cast iron pot lay on its side, half-buried in the trash. Walter stared at it. He didn't harbor an instinctual fear of sunlight like other trolls, but the sight of the pot gave him pause.

It was one of the fundamental rules of being a Changeling: never ever touch iron. Ever!

It wasn't too troublesome to do that in the modern world, but hundreds of years ago, when most tools were made of iron, including hammers and nails… Walter closed his eyes, shivering at the memory. There was a time when iron plates, bowls, cups and eating utensils were commonplace. Back then, almost every Changeling carried at least one wooden cup and bowl with them in case of emergencies.

Another practice used by some was wearing thick gloves, but such behavior was often too suspicious and thus impractical.

Walter eyed the pot as every instinct he had screamed for him not to touch it. A thousand years of training insisted he stay away, but… he couldn't change anymore. He was human… Right?

Walter tried to push down his fear. He pulled off his jacket and threw it over the pot handle before picking it up, careful not to touch the iron bare-handed. He stepped back into the shadows and set the item down before donning his jacket.

With a deep breath, he steadied himself, bending down to examine the pot. He laid a hesitant hand on it.

Nothing happened. The pot's surface was warm due to its exposure to the sun, but it didn't turn him back into a troll.

Walter picked up the pot, turning it over in his hands to study it. He stared at it in wonder, then set it back down and pushed it aside with his foot. He stood thoughtfully for a moment before pulling a small knife out of his pocket.

He stared at his hand, then at the knife, wondering. He made a small cut in the middle of his palm. Red blood oozed out of the cut. Walter watched in fascination. Before, when he'd cut himself in human form, he had to hide his injury, lest the humans see his blood – an iridescent violet. It was sulfur-based and tasted caustic.

Out of curiosity, Walter tasted the wound. His tongue was greeted by the tang of iron. Ironically, he remembered just how delicious the taste of iron was to trolls, but now it failed to satisfy him. It was for the better.

He remembered Merlin's words when he'd first asked for the potion. Walter had never been human before, not really. He'd always been a troll wearing the guise of a man. This… was entirely different. The iron pot, the red blood – his blood – that tasted of iron proved it.

Walter's eyes moved from the stinging cut to the ring hugging his finger.

Yes, this was different, and worth every bit of the price he'd paid for it.

His thoughts returned to his reason for leaving Trollmarket. What should he get his lovely wife? Red roses? Chocolate? Champagne? A pair of earrings to match her engagement ring? The world was open to Walter; he could walk into any shop, any department store or gas station. He could go anywhere he wanted.

He knew he shouldn't get Barbara something extravagant. She wouldn't appreciate him going overboard. Still, it wasn't every day you got married and he hadn't given her a present yet. Besides, Emil could use a few toys to keep him occupied.

It was the little things that thrilled him about being who he was now. The simple prospect of surprising his wife with something new excited him. He smiled as he continued down the daylit street.


	33. Freedom

The human wedding at the town hall served to get the paperwork in order and was a rather mundane affair as weddings go. In addition to Walter and Barbara, the only attendees were an officiant and a witness. Both Walter and Barbara considered their real wedding the one performed in Trollmarket, and the ceremony at the town hall felt redundant.

Once the papers were signed and filed, the pair headed back to Trollmarket for a more intimate dinner, attended only by Jim and Claire.

Emil was asleep in a repurposed baby bed the trolls managed to find amongst the trash. They'd cleaned and repaired it and it served well enough, but Walter would be glad when they could get a proper one back home in Arcadia. Only one more day before they left New Jersey for California.

Barbara had three weeks of leave left, and they wanted to use them as efficiently as possible.

"So, Walter's going to stay home and take care of Emil while you work, Mom?" Jim asked. "Now that's a bit of a role reversal, isn't it?"

"It's only logical right now," Walter replied. "Barbara has a job; I don't at the moment – a situation I intend to rectify shortly. Then you could cut down on your hours, Barbara." He looked over at his wife.

"Really?" Barbara sked. "You mean that?"

"Of course," Walter replied. "If that's what you want."

"That would be amazing! I could spend more time with Emil!" Barbara beamed. "Don't get me wrong, I love my job, but… It's hard, and the long hours…" She sighed. "Cutting down would be incredible."

"Then it's settled," Walter said, cutting into his perfectly prepared steak – courtesy of Jim. "This is absolutely delicious, Young Atlas. I must admit, it surprises me you can still cook like this when you can't taste it."

"Well, it's mostly memory," Jim replied with a smile. "I'm glad you like it."

Claire could barely sit still as she ate, and her fidgeting didn't go unnoticed.

"Alright, Ms. Nuñez, what is it?" Walter asked, amused at her antics.

"Claire," she insisted. "My name is Claire, and I'm your stepson's girlfriend, not your student."

"Alright, Claire then," Walter corrected. "You seem rather eager, if I may say so."

"I finished it!" she blurted, digging under her chair and pulling out a plain box. She handed it to Barbara.

Barbara smiled. "What's this?" she asked, carefully tugging off the lid. When she saw what was inside, her eyes widened.

Claire grinned, barely able to contain her excitement as both Walter and Barbara stared down at her gift.

Jim leaned over the table to peer curiously into the box.

Barbara pulled out a handmade plush. It was a little blue troll with small horns and black hair. Soft grey fabric mimicked Trollhunter armor and two black buttons served as eyes. The plush grasped a grey, felt sword of daylight, braced with cardboard.

"Is this…" Barbara gaped. "Jim?" she asked.

"Yes!" Claire exclaimed. "It's for Emil. Then Jim can always watch over him. Well… you know, in spirit," she scratched her cheek absently.

Jim stared at the plush in Barbara's hand, astounded at Claire's work. It really did look a lot like him.

Barbara sniffed. "It's…" She swallowed hard. "Claire, it's perfect." She started crying and held the gift close. "Emil will love this, I just know it."

Walter smiled as Barbara took the plush over to Emil's baby bed and woke the sleeping boy. "Emil," she tickled his cheek. "Hello there," she cooed.

Emil gurgled happily at the sight of his mother.

"Look what Claire made for you. Are you ready to see it?" Barbara held up the plush Jim. "Here," she held the doll so Emil could get a good look at the gift.

The baby's eyes grew big and he reached for the plush. Barbara gave it to him. Emil stuck one of plush Jim's arms in his mouth.

"Hey!" Jim protested. "Don't eat me!"

Barbara chuckled as she pulled the fabric out of Emil's mouth and offered him a pacifier instead. The baby took it, sucking happily as he snuggled into the plush.

Barbara smiled. "He loves it," she said tearily. "Thank you so much, Claire. It's – it's perfect." She wiped her misty eyes.

Claire blushed. "I'm glad you like it. Just wait for my next project."

"You're making more?" Walter asked, stunned.

"You're going to love my next one!" Claire exclaimed, reaching into her bag and pulling out another plush. "Ta-daa!"

Unlike the Jim plush, this one was unfinished, held together with pins and lacking its stuffing, but its likeness was unmistakable. It was green and from its back sprouted a pair of wings.

Walter narrowed his eyes at it. "Is this supposed to be funny?" he asked as Barbara burst out laughing.

"Oh, my goodness!" Barbara exclaimed. "It's so adorable, Walt!" She grabbed his arm. "It's so cute!"

Walter feigned annoyance, but he had to admit, it was a decent likeness.

"I'll send it to you in the mail with the others." Claire smiled.

"Others?" Walter asked. "How many do you intend to make?"

"Well." Claire started counting on her fingers. "Uncle Blinky needs to look after Emil too," she proclaimed. "And Aunt Nomura, Uncle AAARRRGGHH!, and of course, our guardian, Draal."

Walter stared at the girl wondering if she intended to turn every troll she'd ever met into a plush.

Jim blushed. "I… don't have a gift for you…" he admitted. "I'm sorry."

"Jim, you cooked us this meal. That's more than enough," Barbara assured.

Walter nodded. "If you feel the need to do more, studying would be a fine gift for me."

Walter produced the promised textbooks from his own bag, two of each book. He handed one copy to Jim and one to Barbara. The stack included English, Spanish, Math, and History, just as he'd promised.

Astounded, Jim opened the first book and flipped through the crisp, new pages.

"I would like you to read the introduction to the History book before I make it back to Arcadia Oaks," Walter said, tapping the book Jim was looking through. "That give you three days, which should be more than adequate. I'll quiz you on it when we get home."

Jim nodded. "I can do that," he said, looking up at Walter with grateful eyes. "Thank you."

"Yes, thank you," Claire put in.

"I've talked with Blinkous," Walter said. "He agreed to fit school work into your Trollhunter training. He agreed that knowledge is key to your success." He smirked at the look on Jim's face.

"Blinky wants to study too, doesn't he?" Jim asked.

"A trait I can admire," Walter admitted, then let out a sigh.

"What is it?" Barbara asked.

"I don't entirely dislike Blinkous Galadrigal anymore," Walter admitted. "It doesn't feel quite right yet."

This made Barbara chuckle.  
"Well, you two have a lot in common," Jim offered.

"Don't say that," Walter pleaded. "Please."

Jim laughed, Claire and Barbara also getting in a good chuckle at Walter's expense.

Walter smiled at the three. He supposed this was what family life was like, and if that was the case, there were certainly much worse things than this.

 

* * *

 

The next day came faster than any of them wanted. It was time for Walter and Barbara to take Emil back home to Arcadia.  
The newlyweds trekked up through the tunnels and out into the sunlit streets, heading for their rental van.

With a practiced hand, Barbara strapped Emil into his car seat and got behind the wheel out of habit.

"Why don't' I drive," Walter offered. "Then you can watch Emil."

"You?" Barbara asked, then realization hit her. "Oh, right! You can drive now." She laughed at herself. "Sure," she said, yielding the spot to Walter as she climbed into the back seat next to her son. "Hey, this is different," she commented.

Walter chuckled as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He reached up to adjust the mirror and stopped as he saw Barbara looking lovingly at the baby. He smiled softly as he took the wheel. Out of the corner of his eye he saw again his wedding ring. It was strange, feeling such sentiment now, but he couldn't help but draw immense comfort from the moment as Emil slept, clutching his new troll doll and Barbara leaned back in her seat with a contented sigh.

Walter started up the van and began the journey back to California.

 

* * *

 

 

Waves rocked the ship, loaded with containers bursting with imported wares. A freight hauler was the ideal place for a troll to hide. Among the stone statues inside one of the larger containers lurked a blue troll. He lay on the floor, eyes closed, preserving his energy.

Here, in the darkness, he was alone with his thoughts. The only sounds were the waves lapping against the ship's hull, and the occasional squeak of the ship.

Voices rang in Alberto's head. He could hear them just as clearly now as he had that terrible day… the day Gunmar came to fulfill his promise.

 

* * *

 

 

Alberto hated being stuck in Prague. The stupid humans insisted he be in a business meeting. If he vanished now, he would blow his cover.

Soon the fleshbags would learn just how unimportant theses meetings were. Gunmar had much bigger plans.

When the meeting finally ended, Alberto rushed home and threw together a suitcase. Rosa was waiting for him in Arcadia! His heart raced at the thought. It felt like an eternity since he'd last held her in his arms, drinking in the magnificent sight of her.

Alberto's cellphone rang. His heart rose in his throat as he saw Rosa's name on the display. Eagerly he picked up. "Rosa!" he exclaimed. "I'm so glad you called. Listen, I'm almost done here. I'll be on my way as soon as I can get to the airport. Then –"

"Alberto!" Rosa's desperate cry cut him off. "Don't come! Please, please, stay where you are!" Her voice trembled in terror.

"What?" Fear welled up in Alberto's throat. "Rosa, what are you talking about? What's going on?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Gunmar," Rosa's voice quavered. "He sent his troops. They – they're killing everyone!" she cried. "The doors are blocked. I can't get out! They're slaughtering us! Alberto, I don't want to die!" she sobbed.

"What?!" Alberto dropped his suitcase, scattering the contents all over the floor. He ignored it. "Rosa… What are you saying? Gunmar… He promised we would be free! Our freedom, Rosa," he repeated the words he often recited to fuel his waning hope.

Rosa laughed bitterly, a hint of hysteria in her voice as she cried, "Free? It was a nice dream, wasn't it?"

"Rosa?" Alberto heard a harsh pounding through the line.

"I… I would have loved it… so much," Rosa sobbed. "No Janus Order, no Gunmar – just the two of us, far away from here… really, really far… When I imagined it – in my head, I was happy."

The pounding grew louder.

"Thank you, Alberto. Thank you for that," Rosa choked.

"Rosa! What – what are you saying?" Alberto asked. "Don't say things like that! It will be real – he promised us it would be!" Alberto pleaded, clutching the phone with both hands.

Rosa wept into the phone. "No. It was never going to be real," she replied. "It was just a dream, my love. But it was nice anyway…"

The screech of bending metal tore through the phone.

"Stay away, Alberto! Please – please don't let him kill you!" she pleaded. "Stay where you are!"

"But," Alberto shook with horror as Rosa's scream ripped into him. A tremendous crash split Alberto's ears.

"No!" she cried. "Stay away! Please! Just a little more time – just a little more!" Rosa begged as she scrambled away from something.

"Rosa? Rosa!" Alberto roared into the receiver.

"I love you, Alberto!" Rosa screamed.

"Rosa?! ROSAAAAAA!" Alberto cried out as a battle roar echoed from the other end of the phone, followed by a sharp crack, then silence.

That sound… her dying cry… It haunted Alberto's mind, coming back to him just as loudly as it had when he heard it.

He had to stop himself from crying out her name and risking the humans onboard ship hearing him.

What was all that struggle for? What good had it done? Alberto squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back a sob. Why…?


	34. Home again

Using the overwhelming urge to get home as fuel, Barbara and Walter powered through the last all-night stretch. It was a lot easier now that both of them could drive. They pulled into the familiar, old driveway in Arcadia Oaks around noon.

Walter drove last, letting Barbara sleep in the backseat, but the instant the tires hit the driveway, she woke up and peered out the window at the house, a smile on her drowsy face.

Barbara hopped out of the car, undid Emil's car seat harness and pulled the baby out, Jim plush, and pacifier in tow. The baby yawned, turning his drooping eyes up to his happy mother.

"Welcome home, Emil." Barbara fondly brushed his soft cheek. "And you too, Walter," she said to her husband, who still stood beside the car staring at the house.

Walter laughed quietly, feeling slightly awkward in this foreign situation. He opted to fetch the groceries from the trunk. As he pulled them out, he tried to hide the blush spreading over his face. This was… overwhelming and a little confusing if he was honest with himself.

Barbara unlocked the front door and went inside. The familiar scent of home greeted her. All the coats still hung on their rack, and the shoes were still neatly stacked by the door. Barbara hung her keys on their hook and headed straight for the couch, sinking down into its homey embrace.

Walter came in moments later. "I… I'm going to put on some coffee," he said, meeting her gaze around a tall grocery bag. "Would you like some?"

"That sounds lovely." Barbara sighed. "I'm starving," she added as an afterthought. They'd driven nonstop for fourteen hours, except for the brief stop at the store. The only who'd eaten anything was Emil.

With a quiet nod, Walter headed for the kitchen.

The scent of coffee drifted into the living room, filling the house as Barbara listened to Walter work in the kitchen. In the past, it would have been Jim she heard putting up groceries and getting out cookware. It was comforting to hear those sounds again.

Barbara lay down on the couch, holding her little boy close. She closed her eyes, peace settling over her as she heard the click of the stove being turned on and the sizzle of a frying pan. The welcoming aroma of eggs joined the smell of coffee.

She caught a whiff of bread and syrup and opened her eyes to find a plate of French toast and a cup of coffee in front of her on the coffee table.

Barbara smiled and sat up, careful not to wake Emil, who'd dozed off again. "Jim used to do stuff like this."

"I thought so," Walter said, taking a seat beside her, his own plate in hand. "I'm afraid my cooking skills won't quite measure up to Jim's standards, but at least the food will be eatable."

"How many women can pride themselves in having a husband who can cook?" she teased.

"I've been a bachelor for over a thousand years," Walter countered. "You pick up a few things here and there."

"Oh." Barbara looked over at him in disbelief. "So, you mean to tell me you've never been married before? Not even once? Troll or human?"

"I've posed as a married man, but I don't believe that's the same thing. On occasion I was tasked with seducing human women to gain information, or get access to key locations," Walter replied. "But if you're asking about serious relationships, the answer is no." He cut into his food. "I had other priorities."

"'Seduce,' you say?" Barbara smirked. "Were you trying to seduce me when we met?" She set Emil down in her lap, leaving one arm around him.

"You already know I did." Walter glanced away, looking a little ashamed.

"Were you trying to seduce me when we went to Europe?" she continued.

"No!" Walter exclaimed.

Barbara chuckled. "Well, then you did a lousy job!" she said. "Because you still got me."

"Ah." Walter looked at his wife again. "I suppose that's true."

Barbara burst out laughing just as the doorbell rang.

Walter started to get the door, but Barbara pulled him back down. "You made breakfast, I'll get it. Take Emil." She set the baby on Walter's lap.

Someone must have seen them come home. Barbara shook her head, wondering who it was. The second she opened the door, she drew back, confused. Outside stood a teenager, nearly as tall as Barbara. He was broad, but not overly chubby, though still a big guff. His arms bulged with muscle and his short, red hair was neatly combed back. He wore a comfy sweater and jeans.

Barbara eyed the pie in the young man's hand.

"Doctor L!" The teen grinned, showing off his perfect, straight, white teeth. "You're home! That's great. No trouble getting here, I see. Jimbo said you would be back today. Oh, and this is from Nana," he said, holding out the pie.

Barbara blinked, then her jaw dropped in realization. "Toby?!" she exclaimed, stunned.

"Yeah…" he replied slowly. "Doctor L, are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Oh!" Barbara exclaimed. "No, it's just – Wow. You – you've grown!" The Toby she remembered was short, but this young man looked like he still had a foot of growth left in him. He would pass her up soon. "And you've lost weight," she added.

"Actually, I weigh more now than I did a year ago. It's really annoying." Toby sighed. "You'd think swinging around that Warhammer every day would make a difference."

"I… I think it has." Barbara stared at him, astounded. "You look good," she said. "Great, in fact." The boy's proportions had evened out and now fit together more reasonably. Toby wasn't thin, but he didn't look chubby like he once had, instead he was… naturally broad. It suited him.

She'd known Toby since he was a little kid. He'd always been bullied for how he looked, but now…

Walter appeared in the hall behind her, holding Emil. He caught sight of Toby. "Ah, Domzalski."

Barbara sheepishly wondered how Walter figured that out so quickly.

"Wow! Mr. Strickler!" Toby exclaimed, Walter a thumbs-up. "Lookin' good! Rockin' the human look there, I see," he grinned at his former teacher.

"Jim told you?" Walter asked.

"Yup. Jim told me. And Claire," Toby said. "I heard it was a beautiful ceremony. Wish I coulda been there. It sounded awesome. And is that the baby?" He pointed to Emil. "He's so cute! Just look at him! Hey, buddy." Toby waved at Emil, who was awake now.

The little boy stared at Toby with wide eyes, then laughed and waved his arms at the young man.

"It was wonderful." Barbara smiled. "Let me take that," she finally accepted the pie. "You want to come in? I'm afraid I don't have much set out since we just got here, but I can make you a cup of tea – we have coffee already made."

"That's okay. I just came by to say 'Hi' and give you Nana's pie," Toby replied. "And, of course, to tell you I kept Arcadia Oaks safe!" He snapped a soldierly salute.

"Did you have any trouble?" Walter asked, stepping up next to Barbara.

"Well, for a while after you left goblins kept showing up. I guess me and AAARRRGGHH! got most of them. Then there was this incident with some Stalklings – oh man, that was not pretty, let me tell you. But, other than that, you know, just the usual stuff – a dangerous creature here and there. AAARRRGGHH!, Darci and me managed to handle it." Toby grinned. "Sometimes barely," he muttered, looking away for a second before grinning triumphantly again. "We got through it though. Team work and persistence!" he said, flexing his arm.

It was still surreal to Barbara to think Toby had any muscle to flex.

"So, you're still dating Darci?" Barbara asked.

"Yup! She's great." Toby grinned. "We had our one-year anniversary four months back. Seems like yesterday it all started…" He sighed.

"And school?" Walter asked, ever the teacher. "How are your grades?"

"Last semester I got a B average!" Toby flashed Walter the peace sign.

"That's impressive. You never got grades that high when I was your teacher." Walter raised an eyebrow at Toby. "Care to explain?"

"I don't really know why it's so different now," Toby admitted. "Studying just isn't that hard anymore. In fact, it feels like a break. Going to school isn't the same bother it used to be. I mean… I miss Jim," he said. "But It's just… It's nice now, you know? People treat each other nice; Darci is great. It makes me want to do the best I can." Toby stood taller. "Jim asked me to protect Arcadia." He shrugged. "So, I'm just doing my best."

Barbara laid a hand on Toby's shoulder. "I'm so proud of you," she said. "And I'm sure Jim is too. If he could see you now, he would be amazed. I know I am."

"Thanks, Dr. L…" Toby smiled shyly. "It sure is great to have you back. Arcadia seemed… so empty without you. I mean, lots of stuff happened, but still…"

"I know," Barbara assured. "It's good to see you too, Toby. It really is. Thank you for coming by."

"Well, I don't mean to be rude, but I should report back to ARGGGHHH! that the Changeling is back in town. He's been a little uneasy."

Walter snorted.

"Ex-Changeling, obviously," Toby corrected. "But, well… AAARRRGGHH! can be pretty protective when there's danger, you know. I'd better just tell him everything's fine."

Walter nodded. "Before you go… I need to ask you something."

"Yeah, sure," Toby said.

"Have you seen a strange troll visiting Arcadia?" Walter asked, his face serious. "A troll you don't recognize from Trollmarket."

Toby blinked, looking confused. "I don't think so," he said. "It that something I should look out for?"

"Hopefully not," Walter said, a thoughtful hand on his chin. "However, if you do encounter a blue troll wearing a white scarf, his name is Alberto Daumier. Please, inform me immediately." He gave Toby a stern look. "Understood?"

"Yeah, sure. Blue troll, white scarf, Alberto Daumier – got it," he recited.

"Thank you," Walter replied, still quite serious.

"Alright then." Toby clasped his hands together. "I should get going. See ya later, Dr. L, Mr. Strickler." He grinned at the pair. "You too, Emil – you are so cute!"

Emil giggled at Toby.

"See you later," Barbara said as the young man left. "Can you believe it?" she asked Walter, astounded. "He's grown so much!"

"Well, he did turn seventeen while we were gone," Walter pointed out.

"I know, but…" Barbara didn't finish her sentence.

"Most young men have a sudden growth spurt at that age," Walter said. "It's far from strange."

"I guess you're right," Barbara said. "So, Jim would have grown that much too… if he was still human?"

"Most likely." Walter nodded.

Barbara looked at Walter, her eyes changing from happy to nervous. "Alberto… You think he would come here?"

"I don't know," Walter replied, staring out into the street. "I don't even know if he's still alive. Even if he did survive that fall, it would be a long trip for a troll who can't travel in daylight or be seen by humans. I… I'm nervous, Barbara." He looked down at her again. "Will you let me place some protective charms around the house? I want to take some… security measures, just in case. I promise, you won't even notice them."

Barbara swallowed the growing lump of fear in her throat. "Do whatever you think you need to," she said, taking Emil back. "I trust you." She looked deep into Walter's green eyes. "Just keep our son safe." Barbara held Emil a little closer.

Walter nodded. "Nothing will happen to our child. I swear on my life – I won't allow it."

Barbara looked down at her infant son, then up at Walter again. "Alright."


	35. You can never be to prepaired

Barbara couldn't help but steal glances at her husband as he walked through the house holding The Book of Ga-Huel, filled with images and words she couldn't understand, or ever hope to read. He muttered in trollish and hissed when an incantation didn't work as it was intended, stopping to collect more items to aid him in his task.

Walter explained his frustration to her as well as he could. As a human, he didn't have any magic to draw on anymore, so he had to take it from other sources to complete the protective spells.

Curious, Barbara asked about Merlin and Morgana – both humans, possessing magic. Walter sounded very tired as he explained that humans birthed with magical talent were rare and growing sparser with the passing years.

In addition to the spells, Walter strategically placed items around the house such as ultraviolet flashlights. Barbara understood those. She couldn't help but be fascinated by the ingenuity of the little lights with their purple beams. They wouldn't kill a troll instantly, but they were painful enough to repel them.

Barbara didn't think anything of Walter's measures for the most part. Then she found the knife, much more threatening than the ones in her kitchen knife-block. It was tucked behind the cereal in the cupboard, unseen, but easily retrievable.

"Really, Walt?" Barbara asked, dangling the blade in front of Walter with two fingers.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes. I've always believed in the idea of 'better safe than sorry.'"

"We're not living in a war zone anymore," Barbara asserted. "And there's a baby in the house."

"Precisely why I put the knife in a place he couldn't possibly get to by himself," Walter replied, unphased. He took the blade. "I just want you and Emil to be safe."

Barbara sighed. "You're acting like we're under constant threat. We've been home for a week. Nothing's happened."

"Barbara…" Walter stepped closer to her. "You're the mother of the Trollhunter who slew Gunmar, whose servant I once was. Arcadia was at war only a year ago, even if most of the humans living here don't know that. And, as you said, we have a baby in the house." He gently touched her cheek.

"Fine," Barbara muttered. "But are there any more knives I should know about?"

"Erhh…" Walter looked away.

"Okay." Barbara put her hands on her hips. "How many, and where did you hide them?"

"Right, ahem." Walter cleared his throat and proceeded to take his wife on a tour of the house.

Every room contained at least one hidden blade. Some didn't even look like traditional knives, just tiny blades disguised as pens, or similar small instruments. Knives like this required specific knowledge to reveal the blade, a good thing since half of them were poisonous.

"Is it just me, or were you not nearly this paranoid during the trip?" Barbara asked as she plopped down on the couch, exhausted.

"Back then I had the strength to protect you," Walter replied, still standing in front of the couch, his shadow falling over her. "And I think you're forgetting, I always carried weapons."

"Right." Barbara sighed. "Do you really think all this is necessary?"

"Hopefully not," Walter replied. "But I would rather be overprepared than face an attack with nothing to protect you."

Barbara leaned back into the couch. "Fine… Just tell me what you're doing, okay?" She held up a hand. "And from now on, you're going to tell me whenever you hide a new weapon in this house. Understood?"

"Alright." Walter sat down beside her. "I'm sorry," he said with a faint blush. "I'm not used to living with other people. I've… always worked alone."

"Well, you put a ring on this." She held up her hand, flashing her wedding band at him. "So, we're in this together."

Walter smiled, his eyes lit with a hint of amusement.

"I'm not mad at you for any of this. I just want you to tell me what you're doing," she said. "I've had my fill of the people in my life keeping secrets! If something's going on, just tell me."

"Nothing is going on, at least, not right now," he assured. "I just… For all my life, I've been a target. Back… then… it was only my life at risk. Now, it's yours and Emil's too, and that is the most frightening thing I can imagine," he admitted. "I'm… terrified something will happen to you, and now I can't protect you the way I once could." He bowed his head. "You can't imagine the things I've seen – the monstrous creatures that exist in this world. I've fought many of them, and they're far too quick to hold a grudge." He sighed. "I'm the one who dragged you into this."

Barbara looked at him, deep sympathy in her eyes. "Well, technically, it was Jim who dragged me into this," she reminded, then leaned against her husband with a tired sigh. "It's okay, Walt. I said 'yes' to marrying you," she assured, laying a hand on his leg. "I just don't like being kept in the dark."

"Okay…" Walter nodded and looked down at her.

"Hey." With a smile, Barbara kissed him. "Everything will be alright," she whispered when their lips parted. At this, Walter pulled her back into the kiss with such urgency that it took her breath away. In that moment, he needed her confirmation, her reassuring presence, and he found it.

 

* * *

 

 

"Wuargh!" Alberto hammered against the sealed entrance to the Janus Order. It was no use. He couldn't break through. Every other entrance was similarly impassible. Even the secret entrances were barricaded.

Why was it sealed off?

Alberto seethed. A shiny object, laying on the ground nearby caught his attention. He picked it up. A small blade, once slender and smooth, but now bent and rusty. A Changeling knife!

Alberto recognized it immediately – it was exactly like the knives flung at him during his battle with Stricklander in Prague.

He took a long sniff, imprinting the other Changeling's scent in his mind, and then he turned his nose up into the air, searching for the general direction Stricklander went from here.

Hours passed. Early evening blended into twilight, easing Alberto's passage through Arcadia. As he searched for Stricklander, he noted with confusion that traces of the other Changeling appeared now and again, but they vanished quickly, fading into another scent, one similar, but foreign – the odor of a human.

At times, the two scents intermingled, sidetracking Alberto, but he managed to follow the scent to a suburban area with long lines of tidy houses and nice cars parked outside each one. No trash cluttered the pristinely-paved roads.

Stricklander's scent was here, but it was weak, eclipsed by the smell of the human.  
Alberto crossed the street, heading for one of the houses. He started into the yard but jerked back with a hiss as an invisible rune painted on the fence forbade his passing.

"Cheap tricks," he muttered. "As if I haven't any more intelligence than a log!" Goblins and Stalklings might be that stupid. Alberto narrowed his eyes at the house. If there was a protective rune here, there must also be something worth protecting.

Alberto scaled a nearby tree to peer down into the yard as his orange eyes glowed in the gathering darkness.

Just as he made it up the tree, down below, a door leading into a small garden opened and a middle-aged man stepped out.

Alberto watched with wide eyes. Stricklander?! Alberto sniffed the air. He was… human – even smelled of it. What in the world was going on?

Alberto watched as Stricklander's stance turned defensive. He hadn't seen Alberto, but Stricklander wasn't the leader of the Janus Order for no reason. As the troll watched, Stricklander surveyed the empty yard.

A red-haired woman stepped out, holding a baby.

At the sight of the woman and child, Stricklander relaxed, his eyes lighting up as he smiled at them. The woman said a few words and Stricklander nodded, then leaned over and kissed her. He took the baby and held him as the child laughed.

Alberto was speechless.

The obvious love and adoration in Stricklander's eyes shook him. To see such a pure expression from one such as Stricklander… Alberto caught a glimpse of his hand – a wedding ring! The woman wore one to match it.

Could this be? Stricklander – the mighty leader of Changelings… had a wife? And he was in love?

Alberto stared, then hissed with narrowed eyes.

So, Stricklander was living like this – as a human, with the woman he loved. Fury burned into Alberto's heart as he clenched his teeth.

Stricklander didn't deserve this! Who did he think he was? With every order he'd ever given, he'd kept Alberto from his beloved Rosa, sending them to country after country with instructions on what to do, who to be, where to go, and to stay away from each other unless otherwise instructed.

Alberto held back an enraged roar. How could Stricklander think he could have this life? He would pay; Alberto would make him.


	36. Lurking in the shadows

The last three weeks of Barbara's leave passed much too quickly.

With securing the house, helping Jim and Claire with their studies via Skype, taking care of Emil, and adjusting to his new reality, Walter hadn't even looked for a job yet. He felt guilty, leaving the financial burden entirely on Barbara.

He still had plenty of assets left from the Janus Order, but he didn't want to use them unless he had to. Continually transferring money from account to account was likely to arouse suspicion, and finding gainful employment was preferable to a police investigation.

Not only that, Walter hated feeling useless. He'd always had some form of work – either maintaining his role in the human world or fulfilling an assignment for the Janus Order, or, more commonly, juggling both.

Spending his days in an empty house with no Janus Order, and no guise to uphold… It was uncomfortable, unsettling. Thankfully Emil demanded Walter's attention frequently. The boy was crawling already, getting into everything.

Emil was enjoying his newly-found freedom to the fullest. He was eager and curious and had already managed to bump into the furniture on multiple occasions. Every incident resulted in tears, but the boy's crying was always short-lived. When either Walter or Barbara picked him up and soothed away the lingering sting, he forgot his discomfort and giggled happily.

Walter watched his son, crawling around the fenced-off living area.

Emil scooted from one end of the space to the other, reaching for his favorite toy, the Jim plush Claire made. The boy was so attached to it he wouldn't sleep without it, making the toy the perfect place for Walter to stash a magical stone that would ward off any goblins, or other little nasty creatures.

He'd told Barbara about the stone – at least, he thought he had. He couldn't remember. Walter did his best to let his wife know about everything he'd implemented in the house but, at times, it felt redundant. On occasion he'd told Barbara about the same measure more than once. She always patiently told him she already knew, but it made Walter uneasy to know he could forget so easily now.

Walter stepped into Emil's play area. He bent down and picked his son up. "You're getting heavy," he grunted.

Emil laughed, waving the Jim plush at his father.

Walter let out a sigh. He wasn't as strong as he used to be, and his physical endurance was beginning to dwindle. It would take far more effort to maintain physical shape now.

He was still stronger and more adept than other humans his own age, but that was of little comfort. The weakness of this aging frame made him nervous. He knew what he had to do; the same thing other humans did, train.

Walter sat down at the dining table, Emil in tow. He opened his laptop and checked the local job openings again. The positions at Arcadia Oaks High were filled – not surprising. A school couldn't go without a teacher and principal for over a year. Going back to school wasn't something he wanted to do now anyway – too much of a reminder of the ordeal he'd been through these past several years.

He scrolled through the listings: mechanics, customer service – poor souls – restaurant workers, etc. Walter shook his head. None of that would work. He skimmed over page after page of menial labor positions until one listing caught his interest.

"Arcadia Oaks Museum of Art and History: searching for an Education Officer. Must have extensive knowledge of art and history. The job will include guiding groups through the Museum and educating visiting school classes. Good speaking skills required."

Walter stared at the entry, a smile spreading across his face. This was perfect!

His background as a history major and experienced teacher would serve him well. He'd met the Museum curator and was on good terms with him. The old man was one of the few people who thought Walter's awful jokes were funny.

Better yet, the Museum was nearby – a brisk walk would take him there easily and provide him with some of the physical training he needed.

Walter pulled up the Museum's application and started filling it out. He'd deliver it personally. In this technology-saturated age, the employment process was bland and anonymous. Meeting your potential employer face to face, using just the right words to showcase your talents always increased the likelihood of being hired, sometimes at a much better pay rate.

Walter remembered all the times he'd charmed his way into a job under false pretenses. This time was different, he noted with a smile. He could imagine himself being happy with this job.

His smile faltered. Everything was going much too smoothly, and it made him uneasy. He unconsciously held his son a little closer.

Recently, he couldn't shake the feeling of eyes boring into the back of his head. His whole life, Walter made every move assuming he was being watched, but now… It unnerved him to think he was still being stalked.

Walter turned around to look out the living room window. It was a sunny day, bright and clear.

He shook his head.

Any creature that might be watching him had no power during the day. Some of them couldn't even go outside before dark.

Barbara was probably right. He was being paranoid. At least… Walter hoped that was all it was.

The front door opened, accompanied by a cheerful, "I'm home!" sending his worries back into their dark corner of his mind, forgotten for the moment.

Walter smiled at his wife as she dropped her purse by the stairs and came straight over to him.

"Aww, look at this! Two of my three favorite men!" Barbara grinned and laid a kiss on Walter's cheek before glancing down at the open application. "The Museum?"

"They're looking for an Education Officer," Walter said, pointing at the screen.

"Walter, that would be absolutely perfect for you!" Barbara wrapped her arms around his neck. "I hope you can get it. I think you'd enjoy it."

"I think so too," he said. "I was planning to go down there with the application once I've finished it. Delivering it in person always increases the likelihood of being hired."

"That's a wonderful idea, sweetie," Barbara said, kissing him on the cheek again. "Oh, I know! Why don't we go together? There's a great restaurant right next to the Museum. We can get dinner there afterwards. They make their own pasta and everything."

"Sounds good." Walter smiled at her enthusiasm.

 

* * *

 

 

A little over an hour later, the entire family was on their way out the door.  
Barbara took Emil and Walter headed for the driver's seat. He was just about to unlock the car when he looked up and froze.

"Walt?" Barbara asked as she held Emil. "Is something wrong?"

Walter quietly surveyed their yard and the next house over in the gathering twilight. "No," he said, voice low, sticking his key into the lock and listening as the doors clicked open. "Just my imagination," he said, slipping into the driver's seat, still eyeing their surroundings, a stern look on his face.

Barbara raised a confused eyebrow at him as she buckled Emil into his car seat and climbed in the passenger seat. "Walt?"

"Sorry." Walter shook his head. "I'm seeing monsters everywhere these days. Maybe you're right; I'm just being paranoid."

Barbara laid a hand on her husband's shoulder. "It's alright; I'm just glad you're being honest with me."

Walter nodded, sending her a vague smile as he started the car.

That same uneasy feeling still gripped him, settling in his gut like a ball of lead.


	37. Confrontation

Wind rustled through the trees. The stars shone brightly in the night sky as the house creaked and groaned with the strength of each gust. Leaves whispered by outside, but the peace was eclipsed by the distressed wail of a baby.

Walter groaned reaching for Barbara to see if Emil's crying woke her. Instead of his wife's warm skin, his hand met cold sheets. He cracked open drowsy eyes as he remembered she was working tonight. He'd have gotten up anyway. With her long hours, he'd seen to it that she was disturbed as little as possible.

With a yawn, Walter got out of bed and headed for Emil's crib. The little boy was tossing and turning, screaming in a tone that sent a chill down Walter's spine.

He picked up his son, holding him close as he whispered in Emil's ear, "There, there… everything is fine."

Just to make sure the baby's distress wasn't something easily remedied, he checked Emil's diaper. It was dry. He offered the baby a pacifier, but Emil refused it. With a sigh, Walter scooped up the Jim plush and gave it to his son. To his surprise, even the prized toy didn't soothe Emil.

"What is it?" he asked the wailing child as Emil reached for Walter's face.

The cold dread of a moment before returned. Emil crying wasn't out of the ordinary. Walter had been woken up at least once a night sine the baby was released from the cradle stone, but tonight, Emil sounded… desperate, frightened.

He shushed the child, putting a finger to his lips. "I need you to quiet down," he whispered.

Emil sniffled, still crying, but not as loudly. The little boy shook in Walter's arms.

"Okay," Walter said. "Here's Jim." He held up the blue plush doll. "He'll protect you, remember? Keep him close."

Emil took the toy, clutching it.

Walter gave the baby his pacifier, which quieted him, even though he still sniffed, tears in his eyes.

Holding his son protectively, Walter ventured out of the bedroom and down the stairs into the kitchen and living room. The house was draped in darkness, the light of the moon and stars filtering in from outside.

Emil lost his pacifier.

Walter looked down just in time to see the baby start to cry again. "Shh," he gently reminded, replacing the pacifier and walking over to the fenced-in baby blanket in the living room. He carefully laid Emil down in the center of the circle he'd drawn the first week they were back home. "Don't move from this spot," he quietly instructed. "And hold onto Jim."

Emil held the plush tightly, his lip quivering as he almost dropped the pacifier again and uttered a distraught cry.

"Shh," Walter pleaded again before standing up and peering into the kitchen. He crept into the other room, retrieving a UV flashlight and pulling out one of the knives Barbara had found a while ago.

With silent footsteps, Walter went to the garden door and swung it open. The fresh, night wind hit his face and body. He looked around but saw nothing. He held the knife firmly in his hand as he ventured out into the garden.

Without a sound, he pulled out his cellphone, barely daring a glance at it as he dialed and waited impatiently as the phone rang once, twice, then three times.

"Mr. Strickler?" answered a groggy voice.

"Domzalski," Walter whispered, voice cold. "I require your assistance. Something is wrong – I believe I'm being watched."

"You what?" Toby asked. "You think something's going on, so you call me in the middle of the night? Seriously?"

"Get over here, Trollhunter," Walter demanded. "And bring your so-called Wingman. You're useless on your own."

"Hey!" Toby protested. "That's mean!"

"Do I sound like I care? I have a child to look after," Walter snapped.

"Okay, fine," Toby groaned. "But this better be legit! I swear, if this is just a false alarm, I'll… Well, I don't know, but something!"

"It's the duty of a Trollhunter to answer every call. Get over it," Walter said and with a frustrated growl hung up before Toby had another chance to protest.

Walter's eyes darted around the silent garden. He took a slow step forward, and then he saw it. The fence! The place he'd drawn the protective rune was ruined.

He rushed to the broken barrier, lying in pieces on the grass. Just as he reached it, a gust of wind whooshed behind him. He whirled around, seeing nothing but an empty yard. He cursed his poor eyesight. Trolls had excellent night-vision and at this moment, he sorely missed that.

From inside the house, Emil shrieked, the scream sending Walter tearing back into the house. "Emil!"

He stumbled into the living room and stopped short, frozen in a moment of fear as he saw the back of a blue troll, bowing over the screaming baby.

The intruder stood and turned around, revealing Emil clutched in his careless grasp and a malicious grin on his face. "Hello." Alberto sneered. "Stricklander."

Walter gasped for air as the terror screaming through him stole his breath. "Emil," he managed, reaching out toward the helpless child. "Please."

"Cute little thing you have here," Alberto commented, baring his teeth at the baby. "Looks good enough to eat."

"Stop!" Walter begged.

Alberto looked up, still wearing the same unsettling grin.

"Please," Walter pleaded again. "Put Emil down; he's just a baby. He has nothing to do with this."

"Oh, that look on your face, Stricklander," Alberto chuckled. "It's priceless. I will admit, I was surprised." He looked down at the baby again, starting toward the front door. "Seeing you here, living with a woman, calling this your son." Alberto pointed at Emil with one razorlike claw. "Didn't think you had it in you. And you seem so happy too," he hissed, narrowing his eyes at Emil in a hateful glare. "You got it – you got to run far away with that woman," he seethed. "A happily ever after." Alberto's eyes turned to Walter, his face dark. "You don't deserve it, Stricklander. You don't deserve any of it."

"Maybe not, but that's not for you to decide." Walter slowly reached into his pocket. "Now, let Emil go!" he shouted, whipping out the flashlight and shining its violet beam right into Alberto's eyes.

Alberto screamed and took a step back but didn't drop Emil.

Walter took the second's distraction and launched toward his son, but Alberto jumped away, hissing in pain as he dashed past Walter and out the back door into the garden.

"Noooo!" Walter bellowed, gathering himself off the floor and tearing after Alberto. "Stop!" he demanded. The troll was already half-way across the lawn. "Alberto, stop!" he shouted again. "It's me you want, not them! Just let him go and you can have me! I'm giving myself to you!" Walter tossed away both knife and flashlight.

Wide-eyed, Alberto stopped and turned to Walter. "So… you'll give yourself to me for this child?"

"Yes," Walter replied, jaw set. "I won't fight, just… put him down."

"Well now, there's just no way I would take that bargain – though it is tempting." Alberto grinned. "Oh, the hurt in your eyes, Stricklander. Tonight, I'll feast on this child, and then that woman! Then you'll know what it feels like!"

"You've got it wrong, Alberto!" Walter tried. "I already know – I mourned them – all of them!"

"LIAR!" Alberto roared. "You chose humans over Changelings! That's clear. Just look at you. You're pathetic!" he snarled. "You would change yourself into a human – a real human. It's disgusting! And you smell like them too," he spat. "Fine then. You'll get to live out the rest of your short life as a human. Alone!"

The world around Walter froze as the terror of the moment gripped him.

Alberto grinned again, his amber eyes glowing with glee as he turned away.

Walter lunged forward, shouting an incantation he'd hoped never to have to use. The stone hidden within the Jim plush responded to Walter's words. A brilliant flash erupted from the toy.

Alberto screeched in pain, dropping the screaming baby.

"Emil!" Walter cried out, making a run for his son rather than Alberto. He stretched out his arms as far as they would reach, but before he managed to touch the baby, a hard kick rammed into Walter's side, flinging him backward. He landed on the grass and rolled another half a dozen feet.

"More tricks!" Alberto bellowed, then said with a hiss, "Why am I surprised? You're the one who taught all of us how to deceive, how to use underhanded tricks. The troll stomped toward the groaning Walter. "That hurt!" he roared, kicking his enemy again.

Agony shot through Walter as he let out a wheezing cough.

"Wow," Alberto scoffed. "You're so weak now." He slapped Walter.

The blow from Alberto's stone hand felt like a brick to the face. With a defiant hiss, Walter snatched another knife out of his pocket and thrust it toward his assailant.

Alberto grabbed his hand, easily stopping the blade. "And slow," Alberto added, squeezing and twisting Walter's hand until the bones gave a sickening crunch.

Walter screamed and dropped the knife.

Alberto laughed. "You're so fragile! I have to be careful not to kill you right now." He stared at Walter, then let go of the ruined hand and gave the man one more kick, nearly sending Walter crashing into the house.

With a satisfied smirk, Alberto went back toward the wailing baby, laying in the grass.

"No," Walter growled through clenched teeth. "Emil!" He reached out toward his son. "Don't!" He forced himself to his knees, hissing in agony.

Tears poured down Emil's cheeks, his eyes fixed on Walter as he reached back toward his father.

"Emil!" Walter choked, straining toward his son. "EMIL!"

The baby wailed, his shining green eyes desperate.

"What?!" Alberto jumped as a glow spread over Emil, then Walter. "What trickery is this now?" he demanded.

Walter's breath caught as the light surrounding him reached forward from his outstretched hand toward the baby. An identical strand sprang from Emil's hand toward Walter. When the two blazing chains bound together, something inside Walter ignited.

He had no time to question the re-awakened strength that exploded through him as he leapt forward, snatching Emil from Alberto as his eyes shone golden once again.

Alberto stumbled back, gaping. "You," he gasped, pointing at Walter in disbelief. "You adopted your own familiar?! What did you do?!"

Walter couldn't give Alberto an answer, but he didn't question what happened an instant ago. In Alberto's moment of astonishment, Walter turned and ran.

"Come back here!" Alberto demanded, racing after him.

Walter desperately tried to change into his troll form but realized, even though something rekindled in him at the reforging of their bond, he was still human. The sparks of the fire inside him were there, but he couldn't release the flames any more.

Walter fled toward the street.

Alberto leapt over him, landing squarely in his path. "Stricklander!" he growled, enraged.

Walter skidded to a halt and backed away, clinging to his son, his yellow eyes boring into Alberto.

Alberto swiped at Walter, grabbing for the baby. "I'll eat him!" he bellowed.

"No, you won't," Walter asserted. "You won't lay another hand on my son!"

"Son?!" Alberto mocked. "He's your familiar, idiot!"

"That makes no difference," Walter countered, glaring back at Alberto in defiance. "He's also my son."

Alberto met the human's unwavering gaze.

"One last thing," Walter said with a smirk.

"What?" Alberto sneered.

"Don't look behind you."

"Huh?" Alberto asked, puzzled, and then looked back just in time to see a muscled teenager, wielding a flaming Warhammer, riding on the back of a giant Krubera.

"In the name of the Trollhunters!" Toby declared, swinging his Warhammer in circles over his head.

Alberto managed two words, "Oh no," before the Warhammer smashed into his face, slinging him halfway down the street.

Walter kept Emil away from the fight as AAARRRGGHH! and Toby thundered toward Alberto. The troll scrambled away as Toby leapt off AAARRRGGHH!'s back and swung at Alberto again.

A fist to the gut and a hammer to the face sent the troll running. "You can't hide behind these idiots forever, Stricklander!" he bellowed back at Walter. "I'll be back! They'll never be safe!" and he was gone from sight.

"Phew." Toby swiped the sweat off his forehead. "Okay. I'll admit, it's a good thing you called, Mr. Strickler. That was pretty scary." Toby trotted back over to where Walter now sat in the grass in front of one of the neighbor's houses, trying to comfort the wailing Emil.

"It's okay," Walter told the little boy. "You're alright. Easy…"

Toby let the Warhammer disappear into its handle. "You alright there, Mr. Strickler," he asked.

Walter looked up.

"Whoa! Your eyes!" Toby exclaimed in shock. "They're –"

Walter shut his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them again, they'd faded back to their usual green. He groaned as a wave of fatigue hit him.

Toby blinked. "I thought you turned into a human."

"I did," Walter replied, holding his throbbing head. "Don't ask me what this is. I don't know."

"Still smell human," AAARRRGGHH! confirmed. "And hurt… very hurt."

Toby noticed Walter's crushed left hand. "Dude! We need to get you to the hospital. That looks really bad."

Walter glanced down at his mangled hand. It was swollen and turning purple. He tugged at the deformed wedding band, managing to wrestle it off. He slipped the ring onto his other hand and gritted his teeth as pain overwhelmed him, so intense he wondered why he hadn't noticed it until now.

"Look, you've got a car, right?" Toby asked. "Why don't I drive you to the hospital?"

Walter gave him a blank stare. Ah, yes, Toby was seventeen. He would have a license – or at the very least a driver's permit by now. "Alright." Walter nodded. "But first…"

"Yeah?" Toby asked.

"Emil's toy – the plush that looks like Jim." Walter sucked in a painful breath. "Alberto dropped it back in the yard. Can you go get it? Emil won't sleep without it."

"Oh, yeah, sure!" Toby started toward the house. "AAARRRGGHH!, look after Mr. Strickler, alright? I'll find Jim – the toy – toy Jim." He shook his head. "I'll be right back!" Toby ran toward Barbara and Walter's yard as instructed.

AAARRRGGHH! stared down at Walter, concerned as the man gasped for air, and then let out a harsh cough as Emil continued to cry.

"I… can help?" AAARRRGGHH! asked.

"Take Emil," Walter replied.

AAARRRGGHH! nodded and carefully accepted the baby, holding the little one with surprising gentleness for his giant frame.

"Heh." AAARRRGGHH! looked down at the baby. "Cute," he said. He looked at Walter again. "You look bad…"

"I feel worse," Walter groaned, managing to sit up straighter before coughing again, then let out a deep breath and leaned against AAARRRGGHH!.

"That troll." AAARRRGGHH! looked down the street in the direction Alberto disappeared. "Blue with white scarf. You asked Wingman about him."

Walter didn't reply.

"Strickler?" AAARRRGGHH! asked, worried at the man's silence.

"He's been chasing me since Prague," Walter muttered. "He came this far. It's unlikely he'll stop now."

"Oh," AAARRRGGHH! said as Toby rushed back, waving the plush.

"I got it!" Toby declared triumphantly. "And not a scratch on it," he said, picking a couple pieces of grass off the toy before handing it to Emil, snuggled comfortably in the crook of AAARRRGGHH!'s arm. "Here ya go. Good as new." Toby said.

The baby eagerly took the toy, calming down as he clung to the Jim plush.

"Hey, AAARRRGGHH!, could you keep an eye on Emil while I get Mr. Strickler into the car?" Toby asked.

"No problem," AAARRRGGHH! assured.

"Sweet. Thanks, Wingman." Toby grinned. "Come on, Mr. Strickler." He took the man's good hand and helped him to his feet. "We need to get you checked on."

Walter didn't object. In a moment they'd be headed to the hospital, where Barbara was. At least he could make sure she was safe.

He closed his eyes as he settled into the passenger's seat.

What a mess…

There was no way this was going to end well.


	38. Dependable

Barbara sighed as she watched her most recent patient, a young man who'd tripped and sprained his ankle while far too drunk. He staggered out the door, supported by his girlfriend.

She sat down, pulled off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. Night shifts were the worst.

I would be wonderful if Walt got the Museum job. Then she could stop taking these crazy shifts.

Barbara shook her head, scolding herself. She shouldn't be so selfish. Walt did what he could, and he was wonderful caring for Emil and keeping everything in order at the house. Her job would be so much harder without him.

"Doctor Lake!" one of the nurses burst into the room.

Great… an emergency, just what Barbara needed. She sighed, standing up. "Yes, what is it?"

"Your husband is here!" the woman exclaimed.

"What?" Barbara blinked, surprised.

"He's really roughed up – said he got into it with some robbers," the nurse supplied.

"What!" Barbara exclaimed. "Where is he?"

"He's down in the ER, room three." The nurse didn't get another word in as Barbara rushed past her, flying across the hospital to Walter's room.

"Walt!" She pushed open the door, shoving aside the ER nurse in her haste. Inside were three people, a doctor – Jonathan, the oldest doctor on the payroll – Toby, and Emil, asleep in the teen's arms.

Walter sat on the bed. His face was bruised, his hand and arm splinted, a cold compress and cloth laying over his left hand, hiding it from Barbara's eyes. Part of her husband's torso was exposed, already turning stunning shades of black and blue.

Barbara gasped.

Walter sighed in relief at the sight of her. "Thank God…" he breathed.

"Walt!" Barbara rushed to him. "What – what happened?"

"Sounds like someone tried to break into your house," the old doctor said. "Your husband acted to protect your son. Clearly that must have been some confrontation."

Barbara stared at the other doctor, dumbfounded. Walter, even in his human form, would have easily handled a couple of thugs. She knew immediately that was a lie, fabricated for the sake of the hospital. "I'll take it from here. Thank you for your help, Jonathan."

The old man shrugged. "Okay. The left wrist is broken in two places. The hand has four broken bones. Two of his ribs are sprained, but there doesn't appear to be any internal bleeding. He was lucky. Other than that, there's a possible concussion, but I haven't verified that yet. Looks like he got hit in the face pretty hard." Jonathan stood to leave. "X-rays are on the wall."

"Thank you. See you later," she smiled half-heartedly at the other doctor.

"See you, Barbara." Jonathan left.

The instant he was gone, Barbara hovered over Walter, worry etched in every inch of her face.

"So, what really happened?" Barbara asked, gently picking up Walter's swollen hand and taking off the compress and cloth to get a better look. She winced when she saw it, swollen and purple.

"Alberto," Walter replied. "He followed us all the way from Prague."

"That other Changeling?" Barbara gasped. "He's still trying to kill you?"

"No. Worse…" Walter shook his head. "He's trying to kill you, and Emil. He thinks that would be a better punishment for me."

"That's just messed up," Toby commented.

Barbara looked over at the teen. "You saved them, didn't you?"

"Well, Mr. Strickler called. Said he thought something was wrong, and it's a Trollhunter's duty to answer every call," Toby said. "It's what I'm here for. It was lucky too. When AAARRRGGHH! and I got there, it looked bad… really really bad. Thank God Mr. Strickler called."

Barbara threw her arms around Toby. "Thank you!" she choked, in tears. "Thank God you were there!"

"It's… It's alright, Doctor L," Toby assured, a bit shocked. "I'm Arcadia's Trollhunter; that's why I'm here."

Barbara wiped her eyes and stood back. "And you have Emil too." She looked down at her son, relived he was alright. "Can you hold him a little longer?"

"Sure. It's fine." He grinned. "I got an A in home ec." He gave Barbara a thumbs-up. "Besides, he seems pretty worn out after all that excitement." He looked down at the sleeping baby. "That must've been really scary for him."

Barbara gave Toby a warm smile. "Well, if we need a baby-sitter one day, I think we just found the perfect candidate."

"Yeah! That would be great!" Toby exclaimed. "I'd love to watch him sometime." He cleared his throat. "That reminds me. I was thinking… Maybe you should borrow AAARRRGGHH! for a while."

Barbara raised a questioning eyebrow.

"AAARRRGGHH! lives with me. Maybe we should ask him if he would mind moving into you guys' basement for a little bit. You know, to keep an eye on the house in case that other troll comes back. He can protect you."

Barbara looked at Toby thoughtfully. "That seems…"

"Most welcome," Walter interjected as Barbara's eyes turned back to him. "Toby's right. AAARRRGGHH!'s protection would be most appreciated. Alberto will be back. He won't stop after one failed attempt, and I will not risk leaving you and Emil unprotected."

"I suppose you're right." Barbara sighed, returning to Walter's bedside. She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Walt…" she said softly, seeing the look in his eyes.

Walter looked away. "It was… very close," he admitted. "Alberto took Emil and I was powerless to stop him, even with all the precautions I took. He said he intended to eat Emil… and I don't believe for a moment he was joking. He said you'd be next." Walter covered Barbara's hand with his good one.

Barbara swallowed hard. All Walter's security measures around the house didn't seem so ridiculous now.

"I'm so sorry. He's targeting me… through you," Walter said. "This battle is mine, Barbara. It shouldn't have to be yours too."

"No," Barbara said firmly, shaking her head. "When I married you, your battles became mine too, and mine became yours. That's what marriage is." She squeezed his good hand. "We're in this together. You protected Emil, just like you said you would. And I'm so proud of you." She leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

Walter let out a long sigh. "There's something else I need to tell you." He looked up at her.

"Yes?" Barbara asked.

"You… know what the role of a familiar is, right?" he asked. "Those children we delivered to all those hospitals and orphanages?"

Barbara nodded. "You traded places with them. That's how you could change your appearance, grow up in their places. For you to keep that ability to change from human to troll, the familiars had to stay alive because of… some sort of magic bond between you," she summarized.

Walter nodded, his face turning far more serious. "Tonight… when Alberto tried to take Emil, something… happened." Walter's heart skipped. "The bond I had to my familiar… It was re-forged somehow. I tried to reach out to Emil – to save him." He took a deep breath. "It would appear… Emil is my original familiar, the real Waltolomew Stricklander. Tonight, my connection with him reappeared."

Barbara blinked in surprise and looked over at her child. She sighed. "I see… You know." She smiled. "In a way, I'm not even surprised."

Walter gave her a questioning look.

"He has your eyes," Barbara said with a smile. "That's what I noticed first about him."

Walter smirked. "Well, technically, I have his eyes," he countered. "I took his appearance."

"Right, like that little technicality matters to me." She looked down at her husband with eyes full of love. Her smile faltered. "So, you re-forged your bond? What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure," Walter admitted. "I still bleed red…clearly…" he held up his left arm. Blood already seeped through one of the bandages. "I can't change appearance, except…" He let his eyes flash golden.

Barbara stared at him as his eyes shifted back to their usual green. "What does this mean?" she asked.

"I don't know," Walter said again, looking at the floor. "My best guess is… there was still a little troll left in me – just enough to be awoken by the renewing of the familiar binding. At least… that's my theory at the moment."

"So, you're a hybrid now, like Jim?" Toby asked. "But, you know, less of one since Jim is half human, half troll, and you're more like… one-tenth troll, nine-tenths human, right?"

"That's as good a theory as any," Walter replied.

Toby hesitated. "Or… maybe the potion is wearing off?"

"What?!" Both Walter and Barbara's heads snapped toward Toby.

"I mean – that's what happened to Blinky," Toby defended. "The potion just kinda… wore off after a while."

The silence was so heavy, it felt like an entire truckload of snow had been dumped into the room.

Emil woke and started crying.

"Oh! Whoopsie. The little man is hungry," Toby remarked, nervously. "I'm just gonna go feed him now. I saw an extra bottle in the car."

"Can you handle that?" Barbara asked.

"Sure thing, Doctor L." Toby grinned, bouncing Emil up and down gently to quiet him back down. "Warm up the bottle to living room temperature – not too hot – that's dangerous. Let him eat at his own pace, burp him, check his diaper. If it's dirty, change it, then put him down for a nap. See, easy." Toby said. "You don't worry about a thing; just take care of Mr. Strickler. And if you need anything, call my cell. I'll call you if I get stuck." He looked down at the baby. "Come on, Little E. Time to spend some quality time with your ultra-cool Uncle!"

Barbara and Walter stared after Toby as he headed for the door.

"And don't you dare start calling me 'TP' when you get older. It's Uncle Bodacious T, got it?"

"Huh. Toby is… surprisingly dependable," Barbara said after the young man was gone. She smiled. "That's a relief."

"I will admit, I never thought I would be so relieved to have Domzalski's help," Walter admitted. "He always seemed such a simpleton in his classes."

"Don't be mean," Barbara chided, heading for the X-rays hung on the wall. "Toby was always there for Jim." She laid a thoughtful finger on her chin as she studied the images. "You know… I remember when Jim was younger, when he had a hard time at school, it was always Toby who got him back on his feet. That boy has always been dependable – people just underestimate him." Barbara pulled down the X-ray of Walter's ribs. "You need to take it slow for a couple days. That third rib is in danger of breaking, and I don't want you getting a punctured lung." Barbara gave him a stern look.

Walter nodded. "If that's what the doctor says. Jim and Toby did seem to always hang around together – even at school."

"Yes." Barbara smiled softly. "They became friends in first grade. Both of them were bullied because they didn't have dads." She gave a sad sigh. "One day, Toby stood up for Jim, trying to get the bullies to leave him alone. They still got beaten up, but when I came to pick up Jim, he was sitting next to Toby, looking roughed up, but… he was laughing. Ever since that incident, Jim's been so much happier. I can't tell you what a relief that was – still is…"

"Well, I suppose Domzalski's record speaks for itself," Walter said. "If Jim saw fit to rely on him, that's quite the recommendation."

"Now stay still," Barbara instructed. "I'm going to wrap your chest. It'll be tight; and you won't be able to move very well, but that's the way it's supposed to be."

"Alright." Walter said, moving as little as possible to allow Barbara to work.

He didn't remember falling asleep. The last thing he recalled was Barbara's capable hands working to heal his broken body.


	39. Protector

"Are you sure you're alright?" Jim asked. "I can help protect Mom!"

Walter pressed the cell a little closer to his ear.

"I can make the trip!" Jim added.

"AAARRRGGHH! has taken up residence in the basement. I don't think Alberto would dare come back into the house with AAARRRGGHH! here." Walter sighed. "There are barely any warriors left at New Trollmarket as it is. You should stay at your post, Young Atlas."

"I know, but –" Jim tried to object.

"I called you because I need to talk with Merlin," Walter cut Jim off. "Would you give him the phone, please?"

"Merlin?" Jim asked. "What do you need him for?"

"I have a question for him." Walter stood and started pacing the living room. "Please, Jim."

"Alright. Fine," Jim muttered, dissatisfied. "I'll go find him."

Walter continued to pace as he listened to Jim's footsteps echo through the phone. After what seemed like forever, a bored voice answered, "Changeling."

"Merlin," Walter greeted the old wizard, an edge of annoyance in his voice.

"The Trollhunter informs me you have a question," Merlin said, in his usual, infuriatingly nonchalant tone.

Walter rolled his eyes. "Yes. That potion you gave me – the one that turned me into a human."

"I told you there's no way back," Merlin said. "Don't blame me if you're starting to regret it."

"I'm not!" Walter bit back. "And that's not the problem! I must know – is there a chance it could wear off?"

"That's preposterous!" Merlin huffed. "My magic doesn't just wear off. Maybe some other low-rank warlock's, but not mine. Don't you' know who I am?" The wizard sounded insulted.

"Yes, I know you are," Walter replied. "But that doesn't change the fact that my eyes changed color last night, now does it? They glowed yellow – like a troll's eyes!"

"What?" For once, Merlin seemed to be genuinely surprised.

"If it's wearing off, I need to know now," Walter insisted. "I can't afford to turn back into a troll just because your potion didn't work as intended."

"What?!" This time, Merlin was both offended and angry.

With a loud bang and a puff of smoke, the wizard appeared right in front of Walter, who jumped back, startled.

Merlin glared at Walter. "My spells lack nothing!" he insisted. "You must have used it incorrectly!"

Walter hissed and hung up the phone. "At least warn me before doing something like that!" He threw the phone at Merlin. It clacked against the wizard's chest plate and bounced harmlessly to the floor.

Merlin didn't even notice. He stepped up to Walter and grabbed his chin, turning the former Changeling's head back and forth. "Looks very human to me," he commented.

Walter sneered back at him, his eyes turning yellow as he pushed Merlin away with an annoyed hiss.

Merlin raise an eyebrow at Walter. "I stand corrected. What did you do to meddle with my spell?" he challenged.

"What did I do?" Walter asked, his eyes fading back to green. "I was attacked! Then Emil –" he stopped. "Emil is my familiar," he admitted, voice quieting. "When Emil was almost taken, our bond was re-forged. Somehow," he pointed to his eyes, "this happened. I managed to gather enough strength to ignore the pain of a broken wrist, crushed hand, and two sprained ribs."

Merlin continued to stare at Walter. "Sounds to me like that extra boost came to you in a pinch. Why are you complaining?"

"Because I would like to know what's going on!" Walter growled.

"So would I. This situation is very unique indeed," Merlin said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Fascinating." He grinned. "It's rare for me to encounter anything I did not foresee. I shall need to examine that familiar of yours," he said, heading farther into the house.

"Wait!" Walter went after him "I'm not leaving you alone with Emil."

"Then keep tailing me if it really matters that much to you," Merlin snorted. "Just don't breathe down my neck. I hate that."

Walter muttered under his breath, annoyed, but followed the wizard. "I really don't like you."

"Huh. And here I was just warming up to you," Merlin said, taking Walter by surprise. "Directness suits you. None of that pitiful groveling around on the floor like a worm. I'm nearly convinced you've found a bit of actual self-respect."

Walter hissed again, regretting his moment of surprise. "In my life there were only two options: grovel, or die. There was no third choice, Merlin," Walter spat. "Emil… is in the basement. With AAARRRGGHH!"

Merlin didn't even nod. He headed straight for the basement and descended the stairs to find quite a sight. A gigantic Krubera lay in the middle of the floor, sleeping heavily. In the troll's gentle embrace, huddled up in AAARRRGGHH!'s fur, holding a blue troll plush, slept Emil.

Walter sighed in renewed relief. Alberto would be an idiot to try to take the baby. AAARRRGGHH!'s strength rivaled Gunmar's – exactly the reason the Krubera was appointed his general at one time. Alberto stood no chance against AAARRRGGHH!.

At the sound of creaking stairs, AAARRRGGHH! woke. He huffed at the sight of Merlin.

"It's alright," Walter assured, holding up his hands and stepping in front of the wizard. "Merlin is just going to have a quick look." He glanced back at Merlin with narrowed eyes. "Nothing else."

AAARRRGGHH! growled, resembling a mother bear protecting her cub.

"Interesting choice of a babysitter," Merlin quipped, approaching the troll. He bent down on one knee, holding one hand over Emil's head. The wizard frowned.

"What is it?" Walter asked.

"So, it's true. There is indeed a magically forged bond between this child and you," Merlin said. "The original bond is ancient, but there's been a new link added to it."

Walter frowned, brow furrowed. "The original bond was formed so I could take on his appearance. What does this new one mean?"

"That's a good question," Merlin said with a fascinated smile – looking like he'd found an exciting new puzzle to solve. It seemed he'd been honest about being happy to find something he hadn't been able to predict. "It's quite obvious to me it was this new link that triggered your trollish abilities. This child is the key to awakening whatever little troll remains in you."

"So, I'm not turning back into a troll?" asked Walter.

"Of course not," Merlin huffed, offended. "I told you, my potions work! What a shame. If you'd just waited and let the bond reform, you could have regained your Changeling abilities." He shrugged. "Too late for that now." Merlin rose and turned to go.

Walter rolled his eyes at the wizard's back. "I'm fine." Then, with a frown, he asked, "So, it's Emil and not me who triggers these changes?"

"That is what it looks like, yes," Merlin replied, one foot on the bottom stair. "A bond like this goes both ways. From him, you receive the ability to change. In you, he has a protector – a guardian if you will."

"You're saying, I'm… conditioned to protect him?" Walter asked.

"Does that bother you?" asked Merlin, now half-way up the stairs.

Walter stopped two steps behind Merlin. The wizard looked over his shoulder at Walter, a question on his face as AAARRRGGHH! frowned.

Walter shook his head. "No. I already decided to protect him, no matter what – long before that bond was remade. It was re-forged because Emil was desperate to protect me. I felt his fear that night. He was frightened for his own life, but he was even more terrified to see what Alberto did to me, just like I was more fearful for him than for myself." He smiled softly. "How very… human…" He looked down at his braced hand and arm. "I think I'm finally starting to understand them." He looked back up at Merlin. "As for the bond, it makes no difference. He's my son; I will always be his protector."

Merlin's eyes clouded as he stared down at Walter, as though the former Changeling was an impossible riddle. The wizard changed the subject. "I hear you're having a pest problem – an attacking troll? What do you intend to do?"

"I thought that was obvious," Walter replied. "When he attacked me, I could accept it. He has plenty of reasons to hate me, but now he's attacked my family. That I cannot allow." He set his jaw, eyes firm. "He must be eliminated."

"Eliminated?" Merlin asked, sounding only mildly curious.

Walter reached into his jacket and withdrew a knife, flicking it past AAARRRGGHH! into the far wall with a practiced hand. "You don't always have to fight," he said, remembering Barbara's words from some months ago. "But sometimes you must. I will not allow him to threaten my family again."

"I'll help." AAARRRGGHH! offered.

"No." Walter shook his head. "I need you to protect Emil and Barbara at all costs. This is between me and Alberto. I'm taking the fight to him."

"You're going to fight him without your troll strength?" Merlin asked. "I must admit, I thought you were smarter than that. Normally, prey is at least intelligent enough to know not to run straight into the tiger's mouth."

"You call me prey?" Walter's eyes flashed a fierce saffron before flickering back to emerald. "Heh. I'll admit, that's a new one. I've been called many things in my life. But let me assure you, I am not just lowly prey. This time, he won't have Emil to hide behind, and I will be prepared. I won't hold back because I'm afraid of killing him." Walter went back down the stairs and jerked the knife out of the wall. "This time, there will be no mercy," he said, his eyes flaring golden again in the dim basement.


	40. Preperations

Walter was right – had been from the start, but Barbara didn't like this in the least. Walter gave her strict instructions not to go out after dark, even if she was on the night shift and got sent home early, she had to wait until sun-up to leave. During daylight hours, she had to avoid dark alleys.

Under normal circumstances, these directions would sound like the ravings of a lunatic, but Walter's calm tone and serious eyes communicated all too well to Barbara that this was a matter of life and death – hers and her son's.

AAARRRGGHH!'s presence – and Walter's – were the only things that made the house relatively safe.

Barbara sighed. Her husband's wounds were healing fast. He admitted to using magic to speed the process. She understood he needed to regain his strength as soon as possible.

Walter's ability to change eye color still lingered and flared up when he was stressed or annoyed. But the flashes only lasted a few seconds, fading quickly back into green. Barbara noticed Walter lost some of his control in those moments but was always quick to collect himself again.

Barbara didn't mind those moments because, in them, Walter showed his true feelings. The thing she hated was feeling useless. All she could do was keep watch, staying out of danger as much as possible while Walter prepared for war.

"It's okay, Doctor L," Toby assured on one of his many house visits. "We've been through way worse than this. We'll handle it… somehow."

"Sure thing," Darci piped up from across the kitchen table as she scooped some cookies onto a plate. "We can handle one renegade troll."

Barbara smiled at the girl, noting how much she too had matured during the year they were absent. Darci was a little taller and she'd let her hair grow out. Right now, she wore neat corn rows. She looked casual with her worn-out jeans, and a military green tank top revealed her trim upper body.

Barbara's eyes turned back to Toby. The scar running down his shoulder and back – which he was quite proud of – was won protecting Darci from a pack of goblins. Darci told Barbara about the incident not long ago, citing it as the reason she'd decided to start training. She didn't want to be a burden to Toby anymore. The crossbow sticking up out of Darci's worn backpack testified to her determination.

Barbara admired the young woman and wished she could be a help to Walter, like Darci was to Toby. If they were attacked now, Barbara knew she'd be worse than useless.

"You alright, Doctor L?" Toby asked.

"Yeah." Barbara glanced away.

"You sure?" Toby asked again.

Barbara sighed. "Everyone else is out fighting, and I'm just waiting here… of no use to anyone."

"What? No!" Toby exclaimed. "You're not useless; you're the total opposite. You're a doctor – you heal people. That's way better than hurting them."

Barbara smiled softly, but the smile faded as she shook her head. "What good is healing people when I can't even help the ones who matter to me? I couldn't help Jim; now I can't help Walter, or Emil."

"You're kidding, right?" Toby asked. "You know Mr. Strickler lost everything in the war with Gunmar, right? But despite that, he found something he thought was worth protecting. You!" Toby pointed out. "If it weren't for you, I don't know what he'd be doing right now. He wouldn't be here, that's for sure. I doubt he'd even still have the will to fight. The Changelings – they had it rough." Toby grabbed a cookie off Darci's plate. "I'm not sure about this, but I think part of the reason he cares so much about you is because you're not a warrior." He chewed thoughtfully. "You have another way of life – like he wanted."

Barbara stared at Toby, astounded at his insight. "You really think so?" she asked.

"I don't know, but I spend hours talking to Jim about it," Toby admitted. "It actually gets a little annoying. I Skype him just to have a good time and somehow, we always land on the subject of Mr. Strickler. I tell Jim to take it easy, but, well, you know how he is. He gets worried." Toby reached for another cookie. "He might have a point though. I don't think Mr. Strickler wants you to fight. He wants you to be you. You're a doctor and a mother, not a warrior. And that stuff's way cooler anyway! Anyone can beat someone else up, but it takes somebody really special to save someone." He grinned. "That's why I decided I want to study medicine."

"What?" Barbara blinked at Toby in surprise. "You want to become a doctor, Toby?"

"I want to be an EMT," Toby replied. "Go out on the scene, drive around the city, always ready for an emergency. Cool, huh? What do you think?"

"I think…" Barbara stopped, then gave the young man a bright smile. "That's wonderful, Toby. What about you, Darci? Any plans for the future?"

The young woman's cheeks burned bright red and she looked away. "Well… I… My grades are… not very good… It's no secret I'm not really a fan of studying… I just –" Darci's embarrassment grew worse.

"It's alright. You'll figure it out," Toby encouraged, patting his girlfriend on the shoulder.

"No. It's not alright." Darci sighed. "You're working so hard to protect the city – to become an EMT. I just skip classes and squeak by on my homework. I need to work harder," she said with determination. "I don't know what I'm going to do, but… I have to do my best right now."

Toby took Darci's hand. "You're doing amazing," he assured. "I'm sure whatever you figure out, it's going to be great!"

Darci blushed again. "You're way too good to me."

"Yeah, no way." Toby grinned. "Too good to you? When you're the best? Come on! That's impossible; Nothing's good enough for my girl."

Darci chuckled at Toby's goofy smile.

The sight of the two young lovers warmed Barbara's heart, but the feeling was stifled as thoughts of her own inadequacy surfaced again. Despite all her efforts, she couldn't help her husband or protect her son.

She closed her eyes. Why did it always turn out this way?

 

* * *

 

 

It was late evening and Barbara lay in bed, alone, missing her husband dearly as she stared at the empty spot next to her.

She got up, tucking her feet into her slippers and venturing downstairs, all the way to the basement.

"Walt?" She pushed open the door and was met by the sight of her husband standing by one wall, holding an open book. Not far from him crouched the huge Krubera, and next to the troll was Emil, sleeping in his second crib.

"Barbara? Is something wrong?" Walter turned his green eyes up to her. In the dim light, they were only semi-visible.

"You haven't come to bed," Barbara said, covering a yawn. "How long have you been down here? Have you eaten at all today?"

Walter frowned thoughtfully. "I'm sorry; I've been busy."

"Walt." She went down the stairs, careful not to trip in the low light. "I know what you're doing. You're planning to confront Alberto, aren't you?"

"Yes. That does seem to be the only path available right now," Walter replied.

"Are you stupid?" Barbara asked, folding her arms as she gave her husband a cross scowl. "You're not a troll anymore! He nearly killed you last time. If Toby and AAARRRGGHH! hadn't shown up in time, you would have lost! Why won't you let AAARRRGGHH! and Toby help you?" she asked. "You were the one telling Jim he wasn't alone. Well, neither are you! I know Jim offered to help too. We all want to help you!"

Walter looked back at Barbara with serious eyes. "Jim is no killer. Every life he takes will be another weight on his conscience. I hate to say it, but there is no other way. Alberto won't stop. He's left me no choice."

"So, you're going to kill him yourself?" Barbara asked.

"Does that bother you?" he asked. "That an enemy declared war on us and I intend to play by the rules of war he decided upon and go for the kill?"

"No, Walt. That's not what bothers me!" Barbara countered. "I get it! War was your life. You had to play by those rules. This is no different. I understand, but what I can't understand is why you feel the need to risk your own life doing this!" Her eyes welled up with angry tears. "You promised not to leave, remember?!"

Walter's eyes softened, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He shook his head. "I have no intention of losing, I assure you," he said, closing the book and tucking it under his arm. "And I think you've got the situation wrong. As it happens, this is a Changeling matter. I would like to keep it between Changelings."

"That's stupid!" Barbara insisted. "I thought you were smarter than that, Walt!"

Walter lifted an eyebrow. "You didn't let me finish." He looked over into the darkest corner of the basement. "Would you mind coming out?"

A groan echoed from the darkness, then a pair of glowing, green eyes appeared. A stony, hooved foot stepped forward revealing an intense fuscia troll.

"Nomura?" Barbara gasped.

"I can't believe you got me to come all the way back here," Nomura muttered angrily to Walter. "Have you any idea how long it took to get here on foot?

"Four days, running non-stop every night through forest terrain," Walter replied. "Not having a pack of trolls to slow you down helped your speed tremendously," he said casually, flipping his book open again.

Nomura bared her teeth at him.

"She arrived only half an hour ago," Walter informed. "I hope you don't mind. I told her she could stay here for the remainder of her time in Arcadia."

"I suppose that's alright," Barbara said, still reeling from the sudden revelation.

"Good," Walter said, closing the book with an audible slap. "The plan is clear. Barbara, you stay here, close to AAARRRGGHH!. Look after Emil. Domzalski and Ms. Scott will stay out on the street, keeping passersby away from the area. Nomura and I will take the fight to Alberto and end this for good."

Barbara nodded, pushing back the knot in her throat. To Nomura, she said, "You're going to fight one of your own to the death? Are you okay with that?"

"Stricklander explained the situation," Nomura replied. "I will attempt to talk Alberto out of this, but I doubt he'll listen. If he won't change his mind, I will aid Stricklander in keeping him down. That is our deal. My price for helping is that I get to talk to Alberto first."

Walter nodded. "As she said, Nomura will have the chance to talk with Alberto. Only if that fails will we attack. But if he won't listen… there will be no other choice… than to kill him."

Nomura gave a curt nod of agreement. "I will not deliver the finishing blow. That, I refuse to do. It will be up to you." She turned to Walter, who nodded grimly, holding up a knife.

He tossed it into the air and caught it. "This knife is coated in the same poison as Angor Rot's blades. One stab is a death sentence for any troll."

Barbara closed her eyes in surrender and nodded. "Isn't there… something I can do?"

Walter let out a breath as he tucked the knife away. He went to his wife, gently taking her chin and pulling her face up to meet his. "Just keep being your wonderful self," he said softly. "I'm sorry for dragging you into another conflict like this. Just for once, I wanted us to be able to live in peace." He leaned forward and kissed her.

Barbara closed her eyes and returned the kiss.

Walter pulled back. "Barbara." He laid his hands on her shoulders, catching her eyes again. "You give me more than you can possibly imagine," he said. "I don't want to fight, but I will. As long as I have a reason."

Barbara's eyes misted over, and she fought back tears.

"Please, get a room," Nomura snorted, rolling her eyes.

AAARRRGGHH! covered his eyes with one big hand and blocked Emil's with the other.

With a smirk, Walter shook his head and walked over to AAARRRGGHH!. He picked up his son and went back to stand with Barbara. "It's rather late. I'm going to bed," he said with a yawn. "Make yourself at home, Nomura."

"As if I have a choice," Nomura muttered, arms crossed.

Walter smiled as he left the basement with his wife and son. Once back in the bedroom, he tucked in Emil, changed clothes and got into bed, taking his place next to his wife.

Barbara curled up close to Walter. His arm crept around her shoulder, pulling her into a hug.

She sighed, glad to feel the closeness of her husband. "Walt," she whispered.

"Yes, Barbara," Walter breathed softly into her ear.

"I…" Barbara hesitated. "I don't want you to fight," she admitted. "It scares me. Do you have to go? What if you don't come back?"

"I'm sorry; he left me no choice," Walt replied, his voice sad and tired. "Don't worry. I won't lose."

"Is that something you can promise?" Barbara asked. "And don't just say 'yes' because I want to hear it. Be honest!"

Walter fell silent, then with a sigh said, "No. I can't promise you that… This will be a fight to the death. One wrong step and it could be over for me." He pulled her closer. "I'm so sorry, Barbara… Please, forgive me."

Barbara closed her eyes and laid her hand over her husband's chest, feeling the beat of his heart through her trembling palm. "Just… don't die, you idiot."

"Okay," Walter replied quietly. "I don't want to die, especially not now – with you and Emil waiting for me to come back."

Barbara didn't know what else to say. Her husband was going to battle, like her son had. She could only hope and pray everything would turn out alright.


	41. Final End

The streets stood dark and empty. Wind rustled through the leaves as everyone on the block lay asleep in their beds, except one man.

He walked slowly down the sidewalk. To anyone watching, he looked quite ordinary with his good quality clothes, even gait, and neatly combed graying hair.

His slow footsteps echoed in the quiet street.

He opened his eyes, and all appearances of normalcy vanished. His yellow eyes glowed in the darkness. "Alberto," he greeted. "When do you intend to stop following me?"

A hiss emanated from the nearby tree-tops. "You've been leading me in this direction, Stricklander," a voice replied, another pair of glowing eyes shining down from above, these amber.

Walter didn't deign to look at Alberto. With a shrug he replied, "And you followed. Alberto Daumier, I accept that you have very good reasons for hating me. Your wish to see me suffer is more than justified. But now, you've threatened my family." He finally looked up, meeting the troll's eyes. "That, I will not forgive."

Alberto hissed again and jumped down, landing right in front of Walter with a loud thump. Alberto rose to his full height, towering over the human. "You intend to fight me?" he asked. "You think the small bit of strength you've regained will be enough?"

"No," Walter admitted. "I am far more human than troll, and as such I would stand no chance against you in a fair flight. However, before I was human, I was a Changeling. And I still am. We do not fight fairly, and neither do you. If you did, you wouldn't have attacked my family."

"Well." Alberto snorted. "I learned from the best," he spat.

Walter smirked, his eyes gleaming in the darkness. He looked calm, a sly smile playing on his lips.

Alberto knew better. Tricks – it was all tricks with Stricklander – a master of deceit. Alberto couldn't figure out exactly what he was up to, but why else would the man be walking down an empty street so casually in the dead of night? Alberto narrowed his eyes and raised his dagger, his gaze flickering around the too-quiet road.

Walter looked from the blade to the troll and said grimly, "This is your last chance to listen."

"Listen? To you?!" Alberto growled through clenched teeth. "I spent hundreds of years listening to you and look what that brought me!" He lunged at Walter, plunging his dagger toward the infuriating man.

The sharp clang of metal on metal ripped through the night as another troll, her body formed of pink stone, darted out from behind a car and blocked Alberto's blade with her own.

Walter hadn't moved an inch. His stern eyes still glowed intense gold as they locked on to Alberto.

Alberto's anger rose as he looked up to see a pair of green eyes. "You," he hissed. "So, you're alive too."

Nomura nodded, pushing Alberto back before retreating a few steps. "Stop this madness, Daumier. The war is over. Gunmar lost… and so did we."

"So, you're hiding behind a goon, Stricklander?!" Alberto scoffed. "Afraid to face me by yourself?"

"I'm just being sensible," Walter countered, pulling out a knife and giving the weapon a casual once-over. "If I were to face you alone, the odds of my survival would be slim." He traced a finger down the blade. "Death isn't something I can afford at the moment. I have a wife and child to consider."

Alberto uttered an annoyed growl. "And why would you defend him?!" he asked Nomura. "They're all dead! Because of him!" He pointed at Walter. "For all these hundreds of years, he talked about the glorious future of the Changelings, but then, he turned his back on it – on us. Now he's even turned himself into a human. He's a disgrace," Alberto spat.

"You have this all wrong," Nomura asserted. "What Stricklander did – he tried to ensure the best future possible for the Changelings. He fought, not only for our survival, but for our future. But with Gunmar, none of it was ever going to happen. To him we were just a way to spy on Trollmarket and collect pieces of his precious bridge, nothing more. Once Killahead was rebuilt and Gunmar escaped the Darklands, he had no more use for us. We'd outlived our purpose, and Gunmar had already decided to get rid of us – he made that decision a thousand years ago." Nomura set her jaw and said bitterly, "He was never going to give us anything. When it seemed like Gunmar was out of the picture, Stricklander seized the opportunity to give Changelings a better life, with or without Gunmar," she said, looking over at Walter. "Isn't that true?"

Walter glanced down at the pavement, then back up at Nomura. "You're quite perceptive. For what it's worth, I did believe Gunmar would keep his word. I was fooled, just like everyone else," he admitted. "But part of me knew his reign wouldn't ultimately favor us. In the eyes of trollkind we are beneath them – 'Impure.' To humans, we're monsters. I wanted to show all of them." He closed his eyes and clenched his fist. "I wanted them to know we could be so much more than either of their labels."

Alberto's eyes settled on Walter, and then he hissed and looked away. "I didn't care what the trolls thought. And I certainly never cared about the fleshbags' opinions. But still, you would have me play your stupid game." He stood. "The result remains the same!" He pointed his dagger at Walter's heart.

"Yes, it does," Walter said, taking a step forward, to Alberto's astonishment. "Gunmar would have done it, no matter what. We all had to play our part. One wrong step, and either of us would have been dead much sooner. If we'd proven useless before Killahead was built, he would have done it then – perhaps ordered Bular to slaughter us or eat every last Changeling. No matter how we played this game, we didn't have the cards to win it. The Changelings were always destined to lose this war."

With a pained look, Nomura averted her gaze.

Alberto tried to keep back the torrent of emotions as Walter continued, "Now, it's over. We lost everything – what we were. But now, we're finally free. Free to decide, free to go wherever we want, to live a different kind of life! Alberto." He stared into the blue troll's amber gaze. "You're free. We all are."

Alberto's eyes misted over as he stared at Walter, astounded. "Free, you say? What does that matter when it cost me all the things that made freedom worthwhile?"

"You can find something new," Walter offered. "Isn't that what Rosa wanted for you?"

Alberto's eyes brimmed with tears. He hung his head, eyes shut tightly. "Don't you dare speak of her as if you care – as if you knew her!"

"Alberto," Nomura tried to intervene.

"NO!" Alberto roared, eyes flying open again. "This is all I have left! You will not take it away from me, Stricklander!" He leapt for Walter, dagger raised.

Walter just managed to evade the attack as Nomura sprang in, blocking the blade.

"Get out of the way!" Alberto raged, kicking Nomura back.

She hissed, landing on her feet, her twin swords at the ready. "Stop it," she growled, ears laid back. "Why would you do this? What is there to gain?"

"What is there to lose?" Alberto countered, launching at Nomura.

Their blades crashed together, and Alberto thrust Nomura back again, the force of his attack sending her toppling onto her back, her head just missing the car on whose hood Walter calmly sat.

"You could lend a hand, you know," Nomura grumbled.

"And do what?" Walter asked. "Besides, you seem to be doing just fine," he said as Alberto sprang back up, knife aimed at Walter's face. He deftly avoided as Nomura snagged Alberto's leg, sending him toppling to the ground.

"I'll kill you! The both of you!" Alberto fumed. "Then I'll slaughter that woman and baby – you hear me, Stricklander?!"

Walter watched the blue Changeling sadly as Nomura hauled Alberto back, engaging him again. With a glance down at his blade, Walter hefted it as his yellow eyes stared back at him in the blank, metal surface.

Alberto wasn't going to stop… Never… He was far too consumed by hate, anger, pain… and loss.

Walter's eyes locked on Alberto. One chance – that's all he would have. The energy he could draw on was limited. It would only afford him a small boost in speed and strength, and that for mere moments. He had to use every ounce of that power at once to stand a chance at success. Error, or hesitation – he couldn't afford either.

Walter gripped the knife more firmly, watching Nomura and Alberto grapple. They were evenly matched, and an honest appraisal said this was anyone's fight. But Walter and Nomura had a deal. She wouldn't have the blood of her fellow Changeling on her hands – not when so few remained.

He took a deep breath. It was up to him.

With calculating eyes, he rushed into the fight.

Alberto couldn't hide his surprise as Walter came at him. The blue troll countered; Walter rolled out of the way and then sprang to his feet.

Nomura demanded Alberto's attention again, launching another attack.

Walter saw his opening.

In that instant, he called on the tiny piece of troll lingering within him. His eyes burned brightly as some of his old strength returned – enough to pierce stone skin. He raised the knife, found his target, and thrust down as hard as he could.

In those few seconds, it was over.

Walter let go of the knife, now deeply imbedded in Alberto's chest as his eyes faded from gold to green, his strength spent.

Alberto looked from Walter to the blade jutting up out of his chest. If he'd been a normal troll, the area around the poisoned blade would be hardening, turning to dead stone, but he was a Changeling. Alberto's body began to crumble into dust. With wide eyes the troll fell, landing on his back, pieces of his chest floating away on the breeze.

Walter met Alberto's gaze as he stepped over to him. The dying Changeling didn't look away.

"Oh, so that's it?" Alberto challenged. "You choose her over the Changelings. You know what's funny?" he asked with a weak laugh. "I'm not even angry. I would have chosen the same thing." Alberto's eyes welled up with tears.

Walter took a deep breath and listened.

"Is she nice?" Alberto managed. "Your Rosa? Does she make you believe, even if only for a moment, that there may be another way after all…?"

Walter held back the tightness in his throat. "She convinced me there's another way – a better way. And, yes, she's very nice."

Tears rolled down Alberto's face as his shoulders and legs started to crumble. "Was it ever even possible?"

"Not during Gunmar's rule," Walter replied. "But now that he's gone, everything is possible."

"Everything, huh?" Alberto stared up into the night sky with a soft smile. "You hear that, Rosa? We can go far away now, so far no one will come after us. It'll just be you and me… Heh." A faraway look settled into Alberto's dimming eyes. "Hey there… Rosa…"

Brilliant light spread through every crack and crevice in Alberto's body as his last breath rattled out. Alberto disintegrated. The night breeze picked up his dust, scattering it on the wind as his bones clattered to the pavement.

Walter watched the other Changeling's remains drift off into the quiet darkness.

Nomura, standing some distance from the scene, looked away, eyes closed, but she failed to staunch the tears trailing down her face.

Walter's eyes clouded over as a deep sadness weighed on his heart. He turned away and dried the tears with his sleeve, trying to keep his unwanted emotions in check.

"Is that it?" Nomura asked. "Please, say it is. I can't stand to do any more of this."

"Yes. That's it," Walter replied quietly. "Thank you, Nomura. I owe you my family's lives."

Nomura hissed, "That better have been worth it."

Walter's reply came slowly. "I'm… sorry…"

"You did what you had to do, just like you always have," Nomura said. "You owe me a lot for this."

Walter nodded. "If there's ever anything I can do for you, you know where to find me."

"I'm sure I'll think of something," Nomura said, swallowing the lingering sorrow. "I… I'm going home." She vanished into the darkness, leaving Walter with Alberto's scattered bones.

There was only one thing left to be done.


	42. A new beginning

When the puff of smoke cleared, a former Changeling, cradling a small bag gave the ancient, armor-clad wizard next to him a stern look. "Don't touch anything," Walter instructed.

Merlin's annoyance at being drafted as mere transport morphed into genuine surprise, then sympathy when he saw the meticulous lines of bones, visible in the soft emerald glow of his staff.

Walter started through the field of bones, the bag still nestled in his arms. He stopped just past the first line of remains, head bowed, eyes falling shut as he considered where to lay this sad soul to rest.

Something drew him farther to the left, toward the edge of the room. Then he saw it – the remains of a female Changeling, a white scarf still draped around her neck. Walter knelt beside the bones and examined the scarf. On it, two initials were embroidered. "R.P." he breathed. Rosa Pederson!

Tucked into Walter's bag was another white scarf, this one marked in the same manner, "A.D." Alberto Daumier.

Walter carefully set the bag down and withdrew Alberto's bones one by one, reassembling them next to Rosa's.

Merlin looked on silently, moving closer to observe.

When Walter finished, he took the two Changelings' hands and laid one over the other's. "We can go now…" he said.

Merlin hesitated, then traversed the field of bones not disturbing one with his crossing. He stood next to Walter and held out a single white rose. Formed with magic, its bloom would never fade. The old wizard laid the flower on the pair's entwined hands.

Walter gave Merlin a long look. Instead of his usual nonchalance, the old man's face was tired, betraying his years.

"Those two…" Merlin's eyes softened. "They loved each other, didn't they?"

"Very much." Walter nodded.

Merlin sighed heavily. "And all this because I refused to recognize the evil in my apprentice. I didn't stop her – didn't even try to before it was too late." He stared at the laid out remains. "I allowed her to run loose, to commit terrible acts, toy with so many lives. I swore I would do whatever it took to right my wrongs, no matter how heartless it made me look. I wanted to ensure Morgana couldn't inflict more suffering. But, it's easy to make such a promise after the fact. After she was imprisoned, the suffering drew on another thousand years because I didn't stop her when this all began. I'm sorry…"

Walter felt genuine sympathy for the wizard. "It doesn't suit you to grovel, Merlin," he muttered. "The past is done. It cannot be changed. But I've learned the past doesn't have to dictate the future. I believed there was another way – a better one. I followed it, and I don't regret one moment of that decision. How can I? The man I was yesterday doesn't have to determine what kind of man I am today or will be tomorrow."

Merlin smirked. "You people keep astounding me. Jim… Mother of Jim, the trolls in Trollmarket." He looked over at Walter. "Even you. After all this, you can still feel such a simple emotion and act with pure intentions – something I am not capable of doing anymore. Each time I see it, I feel like I witness a miracle."

"It sounds to me like you're more sentimental that you'd like to admit," Walter commented.

The old wizard smiled and held up a hand. "We shall leave now. I'll drop you off with your family."

In a flash of light, Walter stood in front of the familiar door to Barbara's house – his and Barbara's house.

Merlin was gone.

Walter stared at the door, thinking about the other Changeling he'd just entombed. Letting out a long sigh, he opened the door and stepped inside.

"Walter!" A red-haired woman rushed to him the instant the door clicked shut, relief in her wide eyes. She threw her arms around him.

Half an instant of surprise passed over Walter, then he wrapped his arms around his wife and pulled her close. "Barbara… you know what I'd planned to do; and, this time, I have to tell you, I did it deliberately." He closed his eyes. "I intentionally took his life."

"I know…" Barbara assured, leaning into his chest. "I'm just glad you're alright. That… it wasn't the other way around… That he didn't kill you." She stepped back, looking up at him.

Walter opened his eyes and met her gaze.

Barbara touched his sad face. "How do you feel?"

"I'm just…" Walter let out a sigh. "So tired."

Concerned, Barbara took his hand and pulled him into the dining room where two teens sat at the table. Their faces lit up in relief when they saw Walter.

"Mr. Strickler!" Toby exclaimed. "Thank God you're alright. What took you so long?!"

"Yeah, seriously?" Darci asked.

"I had… an errand," Walter replied.

"Nomura?" Toby asked.

"On her way home, I'd imagine. I think she wants to put all this behind her as soon as possible," Walter replied.

"I totally get that," Darci said. "So… you did it? That troll… He's dead?"

Walter nodded. "He is."

Darci gave Walter a shaky nod. "Good. Then we'll be leaving. I'm beat." She stood with a yawn. "I need to sleep."

"Yeah. Me too." Toby got up and took Darci's hand "See you around, Doctor L, Mr. Strickler."

The worn-out teenagers left.

An exhausted Walter met Barbara's tired gaze, then he heard a familiar sound coming from the living room. Walter left the dining room, heading straight over to the baby, laying on an outstretched blanket.

The little boy grinned at the sight of Walter and reach up, green eyes shining. "Da!"

"Emil!" Barbara gasped. "He just said his first word, Walt!" She grabbed her husband's arm.

Walter raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm not sure that qualifies as a word."

Emil laughed and repeated the single syllable. "Da! Dada!"

"Still not a word," Walter said, picking up the child. He smiled at the giggling baby. "But you're getting there."

"Can you say 'Mama' next?" Barbara asked, excited. "Mama!" she tried, pointing at her lips as she sounded it out again. "Maaamaaa."

"Maaamaaa," Emil mimicked.

Barbara cheered, applauding her son's efforts. "That's so good, Emil! Mommy is very proud of you! Yes, she is!"

Emil sniffed. "Bim," he proclaimed, reaching out with open hands. "Bim!"

"Oh no! He's trying to tell us something," Barbara studied her son's face carefully. "What do you want, Sweetie?" she asked, as if the baby could give her a full discourse on what he'd just said. "Do you want your bottle? Blanket?"

"Bim!" Emil repeated, sounding frustrated.

Walter chuckled, reaching down and scooping up a blue plush. "I do believe he means 'Jim,'" he said as Emil happily took his favorite thing in the whole, wide world, hugging it close.

Barbara melted at the sight.

"You just think you can wrap everyone around your finger, don't you?" Walter asked the contented baby.

Emil snuggled into his father's arms, cuddling his beloved Jim plush.

"That act won't work forever," Walter said.

Barbara chuckled. "Why don't you go sit down, Walt?" she said. "I'll fix us something to eat. I'm starving."

"Cereal is fine for me," he assured, heading for the couch.

"Hey! Is this because you don't want me to cook for you?" Barbara asked.

"That's a trick question," Walter replied as he sat down. "If I say 'yes' you'll say I'm evil. If I say 'no' you'll accuse me of lying."

"I'm making you an omelet, and it's going to be amazing!" Barbara insisted.

Fifteen minutes later, Walter stared down at Barbara's creation. It was terrible – burned and rubbery and far beyond salty. Walter poked at it, wondering what all the chunks were.

Barbara looked at her handiwork blankly.

Walter tried a bit, but just couldn't choke it down.

Is… Is it really that bad?" Barbara asked.

"Yes," Walter replied.

"How bad?" Barbara asked.

"Absolutely horrible," Walter said. "I feel bad for the eggs that had to be cracked to make this."

"Oh… I see," Barbara said.  
The two looked at each other with neutral faces, but neither of them could keep up the façade and they both burst out laughing.

"You're so horrible," Barbara laughed. "Feel bad for the eggs?! Oh, come on!" She gave him a playful shove.

"I'm horrible?" Walter asked. "I come home from battle and my wife tries to poison me!" he replied, laughing harder. This resulted in one of his infamous snorts, which only made Barbara laugh even more loudly.

Emil, not to be left out, added his voice to the mirthful exchange, making his parents laugh more.

"This is getting ridiculous," Barbara said, tears streaming down her face.

"Your cooking is ridiculous" Walter replied.

"Okay, I get it!" Barbara laughed. "I'll never cook again, alright."

The moment ended with the pair leaning against each other.

Barbara managed a deep breath, followed by a sigh. "So… Take out?"

"Take out." Walter nodded.

"Brunch menu?" Barbara asked.

"Sounds good to me," Walter replied.

Barbara pulled out her phone.

Walter held Emil tightly, still leaning up against Barbara as she called in the order.

When you've lived for a very long time, years pass in a blur. One day is indistinguishable from the next, and it is unlikely you will remember any of them distinctly. You probably don't even remember what you did last August. But there are those special moments that stand out. They stay fresh in your mind forever.

You never know when those moments will happen, but as Walter sat with his family that morning, he knew this was one of those moments and he marveled at how truly blessed he was.

 

* * *

 

 

A nice house tucked into the suburbs of Arcadia Oaks, California was appropriately decorated and the number six sat prominently atop a big cake. The young boy to whom it belonged was far too busy for birthday cake at the moment. He had new presents that needed testing out.

The one he was most eager to use was the wooden sword, painted in tones of grey.

"I'm a Trollhunter!" Emil laughed, jumping up onto the couch with the sword. "I'll fight all the bad trolls, just like Jim does! Right, Jim?" he asked the blue plush parked in one corner of the couch. "Don't move! I'll save you! Hiyaaah!" He thrust the sword at an invisible enemy.

A red-haired girl sat on the floor, staring wide-eyed at Emil. In her arms, she clutched a small, pink troll plush, resembling Nomura – her personal favorite.

Both children took after their father, with their similar facial features and stunning green eyes. "You!" Emil leapt off the couch and pointed the sword at his little sister. "I'll hunt you down!"

The girl gaped. "But I'm not a bad troll!" she proclaimed. "I'm a good troll!" She grinned as her eyes glowed bright yellow.

"Valerie," Walter chided his daughter as he entered the room, a book in his hand. "What did I tell you about those eyes?"

"Don't make them yellow where other people can see it." Valerie pouted, her eyes fading back to green.

Walter sighed and closed the book. At least for now, Valerie's only trollish feature was her ability to change her eye color at will.

"And don't swing that sword around inside, Emil. You'll end up breaking something," Walter said.

"Okay, dad." Emil gave him a toothy grin. "When can I have a real sword?" he asked.

"When you're old enough to handle it," Walter replied.

"Seriously?" Barbara stepped into the room. "You want to give him a real sword?"

"It's better if he learns how to defend himself," Walter replied evenly.

"Yaaaay!" Emil cheered, jumping up and down, sword flailing. A vase crashed to the floor, scattering into several pieces. Emil stared at it, stunned. "Oops." His eyes flew to his parents, flickering with fear at what they would say.

Walter raised an eyebrow. "What did I just tell you, Emil?"

Guilt washed over the boy and he blushed.

Barbara shook her head and stepped forward. "So, what did we just learn?" she asked.

"Don't play with my sword inside…" Emil muttered.

"And what do we say?" Barbara asked.

"I'm sorry," Emil said, face still read.

"There you go. Apology accepted." Barbara smiled patting Emil's head fondly. "Now, please step away from that so you don't get cut. You too, Valerie."

"Okay, Mom." Emil headed outside.

"Hey! Wait for me!" Valerie shouted after him, darting out of the room behind her big brother. "I want to play sword too! And I want to be a Trollhunter!"

"You can't be a Trollhunter; you're a girl!" Emil exclaimed.

"Claire is a Trollhunter, and she's a girl!" Valerie shot back. "And Darci is a really strong soldier; she's a girl too. She's a Trollhunter, and she's way stronger than you, Emil."

"Well, you don't even have a sword," Emil retorted.

"Neither do you; that one isn't real," Valerie replied as they both scooted out the back door and into the yard. The brother and sister chased each other in a game of tag, tumbling around in the grass.

Walter shook his head as he bent down to pick up the broken vase. Barbara did the same. They caught each other's gaze and smiled.

"What is it?" Walter asked, several collected shards in his hand.

"Oh, you know…" She blushed. "It's Emil's sixth birthday."

"Yes. And?" Walter asked.

"James left when Jim was five. And… you're still here," Barbara said.

"Really?" Walter shook his head at her, smiling softly. "I thought we'd been over this. I'm not leaving."

"I know," Barbara assured, a little embarrassed. "Still, I just… I'm really happy." She kissed her husband briefly then took the shards he held. "We should get ready. Jim and the others will be coming soon.

Walter sighed. "We need a bigger house for these events. It's always so crowded."

"I know," Barbara grinned. "But as long as I have my partner right here we can handle it." She winked at Walter. "Go make sure the kids don't get hurt, will you?" Then rolled her eyes and added, "Or too dirty before the guests arrive."

"Of course." Walter smiled and headed outside only to find he was already too late. Both children were covered in dirt, their hair filled with grass and leaves.

Emil had commandeered a patio chair and stood on it, wooden sword raised high as he declared, "I am the Trollhunter! Haaah!" He leapt down, swinging the sword.

Walter approached his son. Emil whirled around with a grin on his face. "Oh no, a bad troll!" He pointed his sword at Walter."

"Oh, so I'm the bad troll now?" Walter asked.

"Yup, you're the worst," Emil stated.

"Really?" Walter asked leaning over, a sly grin on his face. "Want to see how bad a troll I really am?" he asked, and then he launched forward as Emil screamed in delight.

"Arh! Dad, no!" Emil laughed as Walter grabbed him.

"You'll have to do better than that to take on this bad troll," Walter said, only to fall prey to a surprise attack from Valerie, who jumped onto his back, grabbing his neck.

"I've got you now, Dad!" Valerie cheered. "Now I'm the real Trollhunter!"

"Really?" Walter asked, sweeping a surprised Valerie off his back as he trapped both children in his arms. His son and daughter shrieked, then laughed.

Walter let them go and the children flopped into the grass, still giggling. With a smile, Walter picked up the wooden sword and held it out to Emil, handle first.

Wide-eyed, Emil took it.

"I'm afraid, if you want to beat me, you have a lot to learn," Walter said. "A sword is a delicate weapon. You must wield it purposefully. If you swing without intent, it becomes no more than a sharpened baseball bat."

"Oh," Emil realized. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Let me show you." Walter knelt beside Emil. "One hand goes here, and the other here." He guided his son's hands into place. "Now, bend your knees so your body can absorb any blows."

Emil listened intently.

"You listen too, Valerie," Walter instructed. "This is important. One day it may even save your life."

"You're really going to teach us how to fight?" Valerie gaped.

Walter reached out to her. "Come here," he said.

His daughter went to him as his son looked up into Walter's face. He looked at both his children with serious eyes. "There are creatures in this world capable of killing humans with ease. I know I can't stop you from going out there when the time comes. But when that day arrives, I want you to be ready. Alright? And I don't ever want you two to go alone! I'm with you; so is your mother, and Jim – all the others. You two and your mother are the most important things in the world to me, and I want you to be safe. There will come a time when I can't stop you from running into danger, but I can make sure you're prepared for it. Promise – swear to me." He took both children by a shoulder. "That you'll never go alone, and always be ready for what you might face."

Emil swallowed hard, then said with a nod, "Yes, Dad. I promise."

"Me too," Valerie said, throwing her arms around her father. A second later, Emil did the same.

What the future held for the Lakes was uncertain, but it didn't matter much to Walter. He knew he'd made the right choice. This family was quite special and soon, they'd be joined by several others, coming to celebrate his son's sixth birthday. And Valerie wouldn't be left out of the guests' affections either.

Family… friends. It was more than Walter could ever have imagined, and that made him happy.

Walter stood up, taking Emil and Valerie by the hand and walking them inside to change before the guests arrived.

The children laughed, and Barbara shook her head at the sight of them, but on her face glowed a glad smile. Walter let go of his children and the two raced upstairs.

"What are we going to do with them?" Barbara stared after them. "They are going to get into so much trouble when they get older, won't they?"

"They'll have to try very hard to be as bad as Jim though." Walter put his hands in his pockets.

"That's not funny," Barbara pouted.

Walter smirked, glancing over at his wife. "They're going to be fine. And if things get hard, we'll be there to help them."

Barbara smiled. "Yeah." She went to Walter and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You're a great Dad, you know that?"

"I've been learning from a great mother," Walter replied, leaning over and kissing her.

Not long afterward, the first guest arrived. Life never stood still, especially not when raising a family.

When one door closes, another opens. An ending is just a new beginning.

End.


	43. BONUS CHAPTER: A normal day

Barbara Lake had no reason not to consider herself lucky. Her life, even with its ups and downs and long stretches of rough waters, was happy, and all that joy overshadowed even the hardest of times.

She was mother to three. Her oldest son arrived when she was much younger, barely able to raise him. It didn't help when his father left to be with another woman. Her other two children came much later – perhaps a bit too late, depending on who you asked – but the man she was with now loved her and all three children more than anything, and he did his best to help support their family.  
As Barbara rinsed another plate, she looked out the back kitchen window. Her two younger children chased each other around the yard. Emil was already ten, and Valerie eight. They shared her and her husband's slight frame, but the siblings had more energy than both their parents combined.  
She glanced at the clock above the refrigerator. Five twenty-two. Barbara set the plate in the drying rack and strained to see the back gate, hidden by the corner of the house. She turned off the faucet.

There he was. At exactly five twenty-seven, the gate clicked open and a gray-haired gentleman appeared. He dropped his briefcase in the grass as both children raced to him and threw glad arms around his neck as he knelt to receive them.

"Dad!" they cried in unison.

The almost-daily occurrence always made Barbara smile.

To look at him, most people wouldn't guess Walter Strickler had such a carefree side, but Barbara knew how much her husband enjoyed his time with their children, and they loved it too. Emil's – and Valerie's – favorite game was trying to win against their father in a play fight, and he always indulged them – though they seldom won. Even with all their tricks and clever plans, they couldn't beat him. Walter always applauded their efforts and offered encouragement.

How Walter kept such a pace was a mystery to her. Even with a full-time job, tutoring sessions with high school students, house work and cooking and cleaning, he still made it a priority to spend time with his son and daughter.

Outside, Emil and Valerie tried to flank Walter – a strategy she watched them practice several times today.

Walter looked from one child to the other and stepped out of the way just as the pair lunged for him. Instead of catching their father, the brother and sister bumped straight into each other. Walter chuckled.

Undeterred, Valerie launched at Walter's leg and caught him just as he tried to take another step. He toppled over into the grass and both children swarmed him with triumphant shouts and uproarious laughter, which Walter gladly joined.

Emil shot a glance over at the window and saw Barbara watching them. He waved to her, and she chuckled at the scene.

Once the game was over, Walter came through the back door and dropped his retrieved briefcase in the corner as Emil and Valerie followed him inside, still laughing.

"All right," Walter said. "Do either of you have homework you need to finish?"

"No, Dad. I already did mine," Emil boasted.

Valerie hesitated. "I… erh…"

"You haven't finished your math? Bring it to the living room, and we'll look at it," Walter instructed.

"Okay," Valerie replied.

Walter headed to the living room, and Barbara followed him. She came in just in time to see her husband sprawl across the couch, exhausted.

"Hello, sweetheart." Barbara went over to him and offered her most loving smile. "Welcome home."

"Hello, Barbara." Walter smiled back as his eyes drooped.

"You doing okay?" Barbara asked.

Walter nodded and held a hand over his eyes. "It was just… a rather long day. Two separate school classes visited the museum – neither one particularly well-behaved."

"Oh, you poor dear," Barbara teased.

"I'll be fine; I just need…" Walter's sentence trailed off as he closed his eyes.

"You want some coffee?" she offered.

Walter didn't reply.

"Walt?"

A quiet snore escaped Walter's mouth. Barbara held back a laugh – not an easy feat after watching her husband fall asleep in less than a second.

In walked Valerie, math book, paper and pencil in hand. "Got my homework," she announced.

"Sssh." Barbara held a finger over her lips. "Your dad is sleeping, sweetheart."

"Huh?" Valeria blinked at her father. "Dad, seriously?"

"Hush now," said Barbara. "Your dad had a long day. He works very hard, and he needs some sleep right now. He'll help you with homework a little later."

"Okay." Valerie sighed and set her book on the coffee table.

"Or, you could try to work on it yourself," Barbara encouraged. "I'm sure your dad would appreciate that."

"But it's hard!" Valerie complained.

"You'll have to do it on your own eventually," Barbara said with a sigh. Maybe her younger son and daughter were too spoiled. Jim always managed to do homework on his own – then again… Jim also ended up acting like a parent half the time, and that wasn't right. "For now, try to be quiet."

"Okay…" Valerie trudged away.

Noise blared from upstairs. Barbara raced to see what was going on.

"Emil!" She opened her son's bedroom door to find his video game console on and his TV blaring.

"Yeah, Mom?" Emil sat on his bed and looked over his shoulder at her.

"Turn the volume down. Your father is sleeping," Barbara said.

"Oh. Okay." He nodded and cranked the sound down then turned his attention back to his game.

"Emil, what is that?" Barbara asked, horrified as her son's character ripped the head off an NPC, taking its spine with it in an impressive show of gore.

"Mortal Kombat," her son replied.

"Where did you get it?" Barbara crossed her arms.

"It was on sale; Dad said I could get it," Emil replied.

Barbara covered her face with one hand and shook her head. Really, Walt? Really? This was suitable for their ten-year-old? Young trolls enjoyed watching things torn limb from limb, but – Well, that was her answer right there. She sighed. "Emil, what does the box say?"

"Uh." Emil paused the game and leaned over the bed. He picked the discarded box up off the floor. "It says, 'M.'" He tossed the box back on the floor.

"Right. You know what that means – eighteen," Barbara said.

"But that's eight years!" He protested. "And Dad said–"

"Well, he shouldn't have," Barbara said. "Honestly, what is he teaching you kids?"

"Always do our homework?" Emil tried.

"Well, I suppose that's something," Barbara huffed. A series of loud bangs erupted from downstairs. "Valerie!" Barbara exclaimed. "This conversation is not over, young man," she said to her son and then rushed back down to the living room. She caught a glimpse of Walter, still asleep on the couch as she dashed outside to find her daughter kicking a soccer ball against the back of the house.

"Valerie!" Barbara chided.

"Yeah, Mom?" The girl caught the ball and looked up.

"Be quiet, honey. Give your dad some time to rest."

Valerie sighed. "He's still sleeping. Is he sick?"

"He needs more than ten minutes of sleep," Barbara countered and planted her hands on her hips. "And no, he isn't sick; he just had a very long day."

Valerie frowned. Barbara knew her daughter had more energy than any of them and didn't grasp the need for extra rest.

"Did you know your brother got that video game?" Barbara changed the subject.

"Mortal Kombat? Sure. He saved up for it," Valeria replied. "Dad said it was okay."

"Your dad and I need to have a word," Barbara muttered. "Is there anything else I should know about?"

"Like what?" Valerie asked and changed her expression to one of pure innocence as Barbara gave her a look.

Barbara debated whether she should pry or continue in blissful ignorance. She knew he husband's highest priority was keeping their children safe at any cost. However… they didn't always agree on what constituted "keeping them safe."

Walter wanted his son and daughter to be prepared to fight for their lives. Barbara wished her children could avoid fighting. After all, they didn't live in a war zone anymore, but Walter's reasoning was sound. They couldn't prevent Emil and Valerie from encountering serious trouble, but they could give them the tools necessary to get out of it unharmed. Every time Walter reminded her of this, he said it with such calm sincerity that Barbara knew he only meant the best for their children.

"Mom," Valerie said as she tucked the soccer ball under her arm. "Bill said something really crazy at school today."

"Oh?"

"He said his dad is stronger than my dad. Can you believe he said that?" Valerie rolled her eyes.

Barbara stifled a quiet chuckle. Bill's dad, a foreman for a construction company, was twice the size of Walter. Broad shouldered, and nearly six inches taller than her slight husband, the other man would win a fight under normal circumstances. But Barbara knew better. If Walter and Bill's father were ever to meet… well… Bill's dad wouldn't even know what hit him.

"It's really stupid isn't it? Dad is way stronger than him." Valerie insisted.

"Valerie, we talked about this. Your dad is… special – in the same way you are, but we can't talk about it. It needs to be a secret," Barbara said.

"But why?" asked her daughter.

"Because troll-kind and their existence are too important to tell everyone about," Barbara said. "If humans knew there were trolls, it would be very dangerous for them. You have to keep it a secret – to protect your Uncle Blinky."

"That's really stupid," Valerie set the soccer ball down and crossed her arms. "Why would humans want to hurt trolls?"

"It is stupid, sweetie, but that's just how it is." Barbara sighed.

"Well, no one believes me anyway. People are just dumb," Valerie muttered as she picked the soccer ball back up.

"No, they aren't; they just… don't know any better," Barbara said.

"Isn't that the same as being stupid?" Valerie raised an eyebrow.

"No. It just means there are things they don't know," Barbara said. "It–" She struggled for the right words. Walter was so much better at explaining these things.

"Dad says people are ignorant," Valerie said. She tossed the soccer ball aside and folded her hands at the base of her back. She stood up straight and in an informative tone said, "Sometimes people prefer to live in their own little faraway world, seeing only the things they choose to see. It's stupid and ignorant, but good for our situation. Let them remain blissfully ignorant; then, we hold all the cards."

Barbara immediately recognized her daughter's imitation of her husband and shook her head as she smacked a hand to her forehead.

"What does 'blissfully' mean?" Valerie asked.

"It means 'to be happy.' That isn't the point though." Barbara leaned against the doorpost as the evening shadows lengthened. "It's not…" Barbara wanted to object – to tell Valerie what her father said wasn't true, but, as usual, Walter stated the cold facts. But why did he have to be so condescending? And teaching that tone to their son and daughter too?

Valerie's face brightened. "Oh! I know! I can bake Dad a cake! Then maybe he'll feel better."

"No!" Barbara blocked the door, keeping Valerie from darting into the kitchen. The horrific memory of the child's last rampage was still fresh.

Valerie tried to bake a surprise cake a few months ago. The kitchen looked like an atom bomb went off. Flour, sugar, cocoa powder and egg plastered every surface, and standing in the middle of the chaos, covered in flour with an egg oozing through her hair, was Valerie, a wide grin on her face as she held up a little cake. The creation tilted so far to one side, Barbara wondered how it stayed upright.

Barbara knew her own cooking skills were… less than stellar, but she was sure they were never as bad as Valerie's.

"But Jim always cooks when he visits," Valerie pointed out. "And everybody's so happy."

Barbara wanted to say that was because Jim was a skilled cook. She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "You're not old enough." She settled for an easy write-off.

"Dad says I'm almost old enough to have a weapon. When I get one, I should be old enough to cook too, right?" Valerie prodded.

Barbara did another face-palm – the third in the past half an hour. "Valerie, you're not getting a weapon."

"But Dad said–"

"I said, 'No!'" Barbara cut her off. "And I'm having a word with your father." She whirled and strode straight through the kitchen and into the living room, ready to shake Walter awake and light into him.

When she saw her husband again, still asleep on the couch and looking more exhausted than he had in years, she stopped. Should she do this now? Right now? She bit her lip and crossed her arms.

Five minutes later she shook her head and retreated into the kitchen. Back to the dishes she went. She snagged a plate and stuffed it into the cupboard with a wince as the grating clink of porcelain hit her ears.

She went back to the drainer and picked up a glass. Then she stopped. The house… was quiet – too quiet.

Dread curled in her stomach. Two children being this quiet – unless they were asleep – was never a good sign.

Barbara set the glass back down and left the kitchen. She peered down the hall and up the stairs, then she looked into the living room and stopped short. Walter still slept on the couch. In front of him stood both their children. They stared at their father, faces expressionless.

Barbara took a step toward them.

Valerie looked up and so did Emil.

"Mom." Her son tucked his hands in his pockets.

"Is everything okay?" Barbara whispered as concern rose in her throat.

"Dad has a weird look on his face." Valerie pointed at Walter. "Is he okay?"

Barbara approached the couch then she caught a glimpse of Walter's face. Fear twisted it; his eyes were shut tight, and a hiss escaped his grimacing mouth as he tossed from one side to the other.

She laid a hand over her heart as it pounded. There were nights Walter woke in a frenzy. He never said anything, but when it happened, she always felt his racing heart as he hugged her close for a moment before he left their room to go check on Valerie and Emil. He always returned a few minutes later, his footsteps less frantic, breathing more even.

Her children's green eyes turned to her in confusion and concern. Barbara smiled sadly at them. "Your Dad's fine…" she whispered.

Her assurance didn't dispel their bewilderment.

"Valerie." Barbara wrapped an arm around each child and looked down at her daughter. "Remember, last week, when you had a nightmare? It seemed so real when you were asleep, right?"

Valerie gaped at her mother. "Dad is having a nightmare? But… he's Dad!" She protested, as if that one simple fact were reason enough for her father to never suffer such a thing.

Emil nodded in agreement, also finding this absurd.

Barbara's heart melted a little at her children's sentiment. "Sweetie, before you came along–" she looked from Valerie to Emil, "–either of you. Your Dad went through… a lot of things. And he fought in a war – a bad one. And sometimes… when people have seen something terrible, it comes back to them when they least expect it – like when they're asleep."

Both children gasped.

Valerie's eyes teared up. "Dad's been through bad stuff?"

"Did he see someone die?" Emil asked, wide-eyed.

Barbara drew in a sharp breath and bit her lip.

Her children stared up at her in expectation.

"Well… um…" Barbara's eyes fixed on Walter.

"Is Dad going to die?" Valerie asked. Her lip trembled, and tears ran down her face.

"No! No, of course not, sweetie." Barbara hugged her daughter to her side. "The war's over," she whispered. "All he wanted after that was to live a peaceful life." She smiled and looked down at her dear children. "And have you two."

"Then why does he look like that?" Valerie stared at her troubled father in fear.

Barbara's face turned sad again. "He'll be fine. Remember how I told you nightmares can't hurt you?" She looked down at Valerie.

The girl nodded.

"Well, they can't hurt your Dad either. As long as we're here for him when he wakes up, he'll be all right."

Valerie let go of her mother and crawled up on the couch. She curled up next to her father, who lay on his back now. The girl rested her head on Walter's stomach, determination set in her eyes as she stood guard over him while he slept.

Barbara wanted to smile but couldn't as her throat tightened and tears welled up. "Oh, look at the time," she choked. "I've got to get something ready for dinner." She gave Walter one last, long look and dabbed her eyes on her shoulder. He was calmer now, and she didn't have the heart to wake him just to cook. "I'll order some takeout. What do you kids want?"

Emil shrugged.

"Steak and baked potatoes," Valerie piped up.

Barbara smirked. That was Walter's preferred choice from the local steakhouse. He wasn't much for fast food or cheap Chinese, and his choices usually costed a little more, but tonight Barbara let it go. "You've got it." She pulled out her cell and went into the kitchen to make the call.

When she hung up, Barbara turned around to find her son standing two feet away, staring up at her. His green eyes looked so much like his father's. "Emil? Is everything all right?"

"Dad did watch someone die… didn't he?" Emil said.

Barbara looked away. Sometimes her younger son was a little too clever for his own good. The boy was far more perceptive than other children his age. Sometimes, if she was honest, it was a little frightening. She forced her eyes back to Emil. His face was serious.

"Emil…" Barbara sighed. "Your Dad – he was… in a bad situation. He…" She looked away again.

"I know," Emil assured as he laid a hand on her arm and Barbara met his gaze as he continued, "War is really bad… Lots of people die. I'm glad we're not at war. And if something bad happens, I'll protect Dad, and Valerie, and you, Mom. Dad said I should always look after Valerie. And then he told her to always look after me, but it's okay. I can handle it, so don't worry."

Barbara gave him a soft smile. "Now, Emil, remember what Dad always tells you."

"Never go out there alone," Emil echoed Walter's constant warning.

"And?" Barbara asked.

"Everyone is ready to help; we are not alone," Emil stated.

"Exactly." Barbara ruffled Emil's hair. "The thing that scares your Dad the most is seeing either of you get hurt. Trust me on that one." She pulled her hand away. "He's here to protect you, and so am I, and Jim, and everyone else."

Emil nodded and then declared, "I can help set the table."

"Thank you, sweetheart. That would be lovely." Barbara ruffled Emil's hair and smiled at him.

Fifteen minutes after Emil set the last place at the table, the food arrived.

Barbara ventured back into the dim living room. Father and daughter were both asleep. Barbara smiled and crouched beside the couch. She took Walter's hand and gave it a firm squeeze.

Walter cracked open one eye.

"Sleep well?" Barbara asked.

Walter nodded. "Wonderfully." He glanced down at Valerie, still draped over him. "Woke up to quite a surprise though." He chuckled as Valerie let out a short snore. "Valerie?" Walter gave his daughter's shoulder a gentle shake. "Valerie."

"Hmm… Huh?" Valerie blinked bleary eyes. "Dad!" She threw her arms around Walter's neck.

"What's this now?" Walter smiled at his daughter.

"I'm just glad we're not in a war," Valerie replied.

"Huh?" Walter raised an eyebrow at Barbara as Valerie let him go.

"Don't think about it," Barbara suggested. "Dinner's ready."

"Okay then." Walter stretched and then stood, still mystified by Valerie's statement, but he didn't pry.

When dinner was over, Walter helped Valerie with her homework. In thirty minutes, they finished it. Afterward, Walter settled onto the couch with one of his beloved books. Barbara sat next to him. He reached an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "It's always wonderful coming home," he said, still looking at his open book. "Mundane life is surprisingly… extraordinary."

Barbara shook her head and poked his near arm. "I have a bone to pick with you, mister."

"Oh?" Walter stuck a finger in the book to mark his spot and then held it closed. He turned his full attention to Barbara.

"Where to start?" Barbara sighed. "You let Emil buy Mortal Kombat? Seriously? Have you seen the violence in that game?"

"Yes, I saw it. Cartoonish and unrealistic – only a moron would mistake it for reality," Walter replied.

"That's not the point!" Barbara protested. "That game isn't for kids."

"He saved up for it with his own money. Fair is fair." Walter opened his book again. "Even if it is a rather pointless item, for now, it makes him happy."

Barbara sighed again. "Well, if Emil gets nightmares, it's on you. And he'd better not get into any fights because of this."

Walter chuckled. "I trust he won't. I do always tell both of them never to search out fights, and I don't think they'll ignore that."

"Oh, really?" Barbara crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Valerie says she's almost old enough for a weapon. She's eight years old!"

"It'll be blunt, of course," Walter replied as he turned the page. "No more dangerous than a stick or a pipe. As I said, they've been instructed to avoid fighting. If I see either of them getting into an unnecessary fight, they'll lose their practice weapons. To be honest, I'm not concerned for Emil at all. Valerie… can be rather hot-headed though."

"You can say that again," Barbara said and then huffed.

"What?" Walter set his book on the couch arm and took Barbara's hand. He smiled at her.

"I was so mad at you, but you seem to have everything under control. Now I can't stay angry with you," Barbara said.

Walter chuckled. "Oh, that's a relief. I'm not as good at handling a broomstick to the head anymore."

"Hey, watch it," Barbara scolded as she wagged a finger at him and pushed him away. He laughed and held on to her, his grip never slipping.

"Mom? Dad?" Emil stepped in.

Walter let Barbara go and picked up his book again.

"What is it, honey?" Barbara still held on to Walter's other hand.

"Valerie is trying to bake a cake again," Emil said. "I thought you'd want to know."

Barbara's eyes flew wide. "Oh, no…" she muttered and let go of her husband's hand. "No! Valerie!" she shouted as she leapt off the couch and flew into the kitchen.

Walter smirked and leaned back into the comfortable couch.

Emil stared after his mother for four or five seconds and then noticed the look of amusement on his father's face. "I really don't know how Valerie managed to get egg in her hair again."

Walter flipped another page. "It's a skill," he replied. "I should probably go help clean up." He tucked a bookmark into the volume and set it aside as he rose.

"Dad?" Emil asked as Walter passed him.

"Yes, Emil," Walter stopped and turned to face his son.

As the boy looked back at him, Walter saw Emil's eyes sharpen, as though he were about to say something, but then he shook his head. "I'll help too."

Emil followed Walter into the kitchen where Barbara was already sweeping up a small pile of flour. She pointed to another section of floor, slick with vegetable oil. "Make yourselves useful."

In lieu of cake, when the mess was cleaned up, Barbara pulled out a frozen apple pie and popped it into the oven. Ten minutes later, Walter rushed back into the kitchen and flipped the heat down from five hundred to three-fifty. When it was ready to eat, Barbara scraped off the slightly charred top layer of crust, and all four of them dug in.

Emil polished off the last piece twenty minutes later.

Barbara started to get up, but she was so tired she slumped back into her chair.

"You should go to bed," Walter said. "I'll handle the dishes."

"Sure, honey." Barbara nodded. "Thanks."

"Time for you two to head up to bed too," Walter told Emil and Valerie.

The children complained but did as they were told and headed to bed, their eyes already drooping halfway up the stairs.

With the children tucked in, the dishes washed, and the house dark, Barbara slipped into bed. Walter soon joined her. As always, she took great comfort in his presence.

He laid a warm hand on her side. She always enjoyed her husband's light touch, even when it was just to assure himself she was still there.

All things considered, Barbara was, in fact, quite a lucky woman.


End file.
